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smoft-demons · 6 months ago

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Hey, I've been reading your post for a while now andi absolutely love them. Before I got into OM I was already a big D&D person and love fantesty-romance novels. Although, that's besides the point. I was genuinely scared to ask this until I saw your headcanons, there so wholesome<3

But I was wondering if you could do a brothers + the others react to MC getting there period? I was planning on doing it on my own page but I'm a bit scared to publish my own stuff. Although, thank you if you do.

-H.M

Yeah, sure! As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I love writing all the comfort and fluff prompts. It’s like catnip to me lmao

This is gonna be pretty long, so I’m only gonna do the brothers.

Thanks for requesting!! I hope you like it :)

_______

MC is on their period

_______

You’ve been living in the House of Lamentation for a while now. You are, at this point, thoroughly and inextricably part of the family.

As a member of their family, your demons have no problem with helping you out. They can’t help but fawn over you a bit, as well—this wasn’t a familiar problem to them before meeting you, as none of them menstruate. Plus, any human condition of yours that highlights vulnerability and pain on your part makes them all get a tad protective.

In any case, they make sure to be helpful!

_______

Lucifer: responsibility -> rest

With your permission, Lucifer notes your cycle on the calendar he keeps on the kitchen wall. Tactfully, of course. It’s just a little red X in the corner of the box that marks the day you start until the day it ends. It ensures no one in the house forgets to be extra nice to you on those days. Plus, it serves as a way to remind you, in case it sneaks up on you.

In the week leading up to it, he checks up on your stock of human world products (and devildom ones too) for it. Painkillers, chocolate, tea, hygiene products, a heating pad, everything. If you’re running low, he will either take you to get more or take care of it himself, depending on how you’re feeling.

If you’re irregular, he takes extra care with tracking your cycle. Having records is important!

He takes you off the chore rotation while you’re bleeding. He wants you to rest. He will not make you expend your energy on chores while you’re in pain.

If you WANT to take some chores though, he understands and will let you, as long as you don’t make yourself suffer unnecessarily. He understands that some people cope worse with stress, illness, and/or pain when their routine is interrupted and they have no task to distract themself with. He would know! He’s one of them! So if you are too, he won’t force you to give up your tasks.

He does very strictly instruct you not to push yourself, however. You are to let him know immediately if you need to stop, so he or one of his brothers can help you out.

If you want somewhere quiet to hide, he’s got you. His study is a great spot for that! He won’t let anyone else in.

His room is another great spot for that, if you want a softer surface and dimmer lighting. You’re allowed to be in there without him if that ends up working out best (and he hopes you understand the level of trust in you he’s displaying by allowing that), but he has no problem with bringing his work out of the study and into his room if you want his company.

If he’s not on a time crunch, he won’t bother bringing any work with him though. Unless he has reason to expect you to feel guilty for taking up his time, in which case he will bring some and finish it in the room with you and then tell you he’s done for the day.

You end up lying on his bed with him, contorted in whatever weird position makes your cramps hurt the least. It’s the middle of the day, but for once Lucifer doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just lying next to you with his hand splayed over your uterus or lower back, applying light pressure and warmth to help the pain go away. Quietly talking to you about stuff that doesn’t matter.

There’s no concern for productivity. Nor for terrorizing his brothers into order. It seems the key for making Lucifer take a day to just relax is to request his company while you’re in pain.

See, Lucifer’s driving force is how much he loves his family. He will go to ANY lengths to keep them safe and happy. It’s his main priority. You’re part of his family now. You’re the youngest, even… and you’re in pain. So, he’s okay with pushing off the work Diavolo gives him for a day. For you, it’s worth it.

There’s no paperwork in any realm that he would prioritize over comforting you when you’re in pain. He hopes you feel all the love in that sentiment.

You know how huge a declaration that action is, because there is NO other way to get Lucifer to voluntarily lie around in the middle of the day.

_______

Mammon: devotion -> generosity

Mammon was the first one you went to for help during your very first period in the Devildom.

After a short, frantic conversation about what happened to you, why, and how you normally deal with this, he set you up in his room with some towels, a spare set of his own comfortably worn in clothes, and a movie as he rushed out to find some Devildom substitute for the hygiene products you’re used to. Just, SOMETHING to absorb the blood in the meantime before he can get you products from the human world!

He would have gone to the human world immediately, but he’s not allowed and he doesn’t have time to talk Lucifer into letting him up there yet!! You have NOTHING to work with right now, he’s gotta figure something out ASAP!

He didn’t even think about the amount of money he’s willing to spend, or how else he could be using it. He may not have been willing to tell you how much he cares for you at that point, but he has always come through for you when it matters. Even in the early days.

You find yourself contemplating Mammon’s contrasting demeanour while he’s out. This isn’t the first demonstration of his responsible mode that you’ve seen. It’s fascinating, the way he acts so careless and tsundere until someone needs him—at which point he drops that image like it’s nothing, revealing the softhearted and protective big brother he really is.

In those moments, you can see in his personality that he helped raise 5 little brothers (and one Lilith, though you don’t learn about her until later) and is actually pretty damn good at it. It’s clear that he loves you more than he’s willing to admit in those rare moments, when showing it genuinely matters.

Anyway. He came home with an assortment of items for you. No medicine yet because he doesn’t trust that Devildom painkillers won’t harm you, but he brought a BUNCH of snacks, and a collection of things that can be used to absorb the blood for now, until he can get Lucifer to let him go get the stuff you normally use from the human world. You can take your pick.

He even commissioned an enchanter to make you a custom heating pad, because he doesn’t trust the ones meant for demons to not burn your skin. He didn’t think about the price. Frankly, he doesn’t care. Maybe he’ll remember to complain about it to save face later. Maybe.

His main concern—making sure you’re okay—left no room to think of that in that moment. He waves off your concern about bloodstains on the stuff he lent you before he went out. Being reassuring in his usual irreverent way, saying something about how he’s a demon, and demons don’t tend to be squeamish about blood. Hell if he cares, he says.

While you’re in the bathroom washing up and dealing with the bleeding (with a SECOND set of Mammon’s worn-in, comfy clothes that he put in your hands before shoving you into the bathroom, not giving you a second to refuse), Mammon is texting Lucifer to find a way to get you proper period supplies from the human world.

When you come back to him, he tells you that you’ll have what you need before you go to bed, but in the meantime you should sit, because he’s putting on another movie.

He watches you shift around uncomfortably over the next few minutes. Cramps, you know. You’re not exactly comfortable sitting the way you are. Without a word, he pulls you to lie down with your head resting on his leg. He’s looking away from you, indistinctly mumbling something about “so lucky I’m lookin’ after ya” and “what would ya do without the great Mammon” and “MY human, damn it” as he carefully rubs tension out of your back.

“What was that?” You ask him.

“Shut up an’ watch the damn movie!” He splutters.

You stay like that until Lucifer shows up with your requested items. Pads, tampons, a menstrual cup, painkillers, whatever it is you asked for.

Later that night, as Mammon persists in rubbing your back as another movie plays, you find that your trust in him is stronger than it has ever been before. You understand exactly why Mammon is the best demon to be in charge of your well-being. Lucifer chose him for a reason, and it’s impossible to miss. Mammon is so damn caring under the tsundere façade.

You feel so loved. You ARE so loved. The pain fades away under the warmth of his hands. His lap makes a good pillow, and Mammon makes a great guardian.

(Every month after this, he leaves his door open for you in case you want a distraction from the pain. He’s ready with snacks and a movie. He’ll happily do this for you every time.)

_______

Levi: passion -> gentleness

Whatever it is that Levi notices first—be it the blood, the worse mood, the regular time spent with Mammon every month—he freaks out. He’s like “AAAAWTF WHY ARE YOU BLEEDING ARE YOU DYING???” Or like “oh noooo are you mad at me why are you randomly sad do you hate me now??” Or like “why can’t you reschedule with Mammon and do this time limited event with me, do you not wanna play with me anymore???”

Either way, bro is suffering.

Eventually, either you or one of his older brothers explains to him, and he feels bad. He didn’t mean to stress you out worse! Also, periods are real?? He thought it was just some creative plot point in the occasional anime! That’s crazy, why are humans built like that??

Anyway. Levi’s nothing if not passionate, and he’s gonna turn some of that passion towards finding ways to make you more comfortable.

He will find a way to order all the human world snacks you crave while you’re bleeding. He will be on the lookout for gifts, like games and merch and manga you’d want. He stockpiles them so he always has something ready to cheer you up when you need that.

He will even do his best to redirect the envy he feels towards Mammon and his established routine of movies and snacks in his room with you lying in his lap and getting free back rubs on the first day of your period each month. He wants that to be him, damn it! But he’s not gonna disrupt that for you.

He WILL claim hanging out with you on your day 2 though, AND will fill in every time if Mammon’s not available. The only thing that can beat out his shyness at the idea of having you using his lap as a pillow is the raging envy at knowing MAMMON gets to have that every month!

(Eventually, once you figure out that Levi wants to be invited so bad, you just invite him. It’s not like you don’t want him there! He’s very happy to sit next to you with your legs in his lap while he ignores Mammon’s stupid movie and plays a game on his phone. It’s nice to have two demon pillows. This one’s got built-in cooling!)

Levi understands not wanting to deal with lights and noise and craziness when you’re in pain. He will prevent any of his brothers from bringing any of that around you with all the determination and passion he brings to everything he cares about.

He is remarkably gentle, for someone who is usually so excitable. So considerate! You can see in the way he forces everyone to only argue over text, in the gentle movement of cool, nimble hands over sore calves and hips and ankles, in the presentation of snacks and gifts determinedly brought to you from the human world, how much he cares about you. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

_______

Satan: research -> comfort

The first order of business for nerd boy here is, of course, research. He is gathering information from all his relevant contacts—every human sorcerer and witch he knows, every demon with a pact-bonded menstruating human they care about AND the aforementioned human, every healer, medical researcher, librarian…

Yeah, he’s gonna end up knowing more about it than you do.

He comes back home after a few days, mumbling about human endocrine systems and nutrition and medical malpractice of menstruating patients and the mechanics of blood production and every phase of a menstrual cycle and how pain works on a chemical level. He’s got notebooks and everything. He’s got the whole history of menstruation since the beginning of humanity summarized in one of those notebooks.

… Maybe it’s a bit overkill. But you know how he gets when he’s curious, especially about something that hurts you! He’s gotta know everything!

So now he’s infodumping to you about every symptom you mention. If you’re the sort of person who finds that interesting and helpful, perfect! If you’re not… well, he won’t be offended if you get mad at him for effectively mansplaining your own body to you. Demon-splaining? Whatever, either way he will take that correction with grace and only tell you information you directly ask for. He’s learned enough about menstruation to be very sympathetic and patient while you’re in the middle of it. It seems awful to him, and he’s not about to make it worse!

He’s wise enough to know that he should ask before ACTING on any of that information though. He won’t try to optimize your nutrition or your painkillers or anything unless you ask him to. He knows that would be too far. He’s not prideful enough to override you like that, he’s not Lucifer.

If you get really angry when you bleed, he’s got you! He understands, he encourages you to yell and rant in front of him all you want. Throw around some destructive spellwork or just break stuff if you need to, he’s got a room for that. It’s all good!

Satan is so good with practical comfort. He’s big on venting for your health and sanity. He knows what buttons not to push, they’re obvious to him as wrath incarnate.

Of course, he’ll also give you hugs and drive off his crazy brothers if you need peace. He’ll bring you to the cats when you get sick of people. He’ll find you any answer you need. If your cycle is irregular or in any way atypical, there’s no better demon to have searching for answers for you—and he’d NEVER let no medical malpractice happen to you. Doctors are GOING to take you seriously, damn it!

To him, there’s no such thing as too much hassle to help someone he loves so much as he loves you.

_______

Asmo: luxury -> selflessness

As the Avatar of Lust, there’s no way Asmo doesn’t know the basics of how menstrual cycles work. No way. Even if demons don’t get them, it’s relevant to his whole domain.

Asmo’s got you. He’s gonna spoil the hell out of you. Massages with fancy oils, hot baths with magic muscle relaxant products added, masks to prevent any skin issues from fluctuating hormones, everything he can think of.

If anyone even tries to make you do anything you don’t want to, he will destroy them. This is a time for rest, he insists!

He relishes any opportunity to relax with you, have a self-care day, just chill and recharge together… but he’s prioritizing you. You get to see the rare responsible Asmo during this time! If you have non-negotiable responsibilities, he’s helping you. He wants you to get done faster!

He’s actually got a pretty great strategic mind when he’s incentivized to use it! He’s so efficient! Only because he wants you to be in his room relaxing as fast as possible, but it’s totally there!

At the end of it all, it’s completely possible that he forgets about spoiling himself too, just because he got so focused on trying to take as much of your pain away as possible. It’s wild that he doesn’t think he has any capacity for selflessness. Good thing you know better.

_______

Beel: perceptiveness -> caring

Beel smells the blood. Immediately. At first he’s concerned but minds his own business, trusting that Mammon’s taking care of you. But after you’ve pacted with him? Not anymore.

Beel becomes your warning system. He will notify you as soon as the hormonal shift starts to happen. Days before you even start bleeding.

You know it’s because he cares, and that he can’t avoid noticing the change in your scent whether he wants to or not. You choose not to think it’s weird.

He gets worried once he learns about what happens to you every month. His first priority is making sure he doesn’t eat everything that’s high in iron, folic acid, vitamin C and D, and omega-3s. All very good for you when you’re on your period. He makes sure that stuff remains available to you.

He invites you to exercise with him too, because he heard that can be helpful. He won’t STOP you from lifting if that’s what you want to do, but HE is choosing to focus on stretching and moderate cardio for now (stuff that should be more helpful for you) and if you want to join him, well… that’s what he’s doing. What do you mean he changed it on purpose? He just felt like yoga and a nice jog today! Don’t think about it too hard!

Beel is actually the best one to go to for massages. Sure, Asmo knows what feels good and he’s phenomenal at that. True. But Beel is the one who understands every muscle and tendon in a body, so if you want a full, functional reset, in which all the tension and soreness in you gets methodically, optimally pressed out, you go to Beel. It might not feel quite as nice—in fact it might hurt a fair bit—but it’ll be so effective. You will have no pain at all after. Plus, he’ll teach you stretches to prevent some of that tension coming back later, too. He’s so helpful.

_______

Belphie: laziness -> service

We all know Belphie is the number one advocate for rest. He will encourage you to sleep through as much of it as possible. Why would you want to be awake to experience pain? Screw that. He will actively keep you asleep as long as possible—unless you tell him in advance that there has to be limits so you don’t bleed on everything you’re touching. Even so, he doesn’t quite see the problem. He’s a demon, he’s not squeamish about blood. What biohazard?

But no, he’ll respect that. If he’s a lil shit about it, all you have to do is pull the “remember that time you killed me” card and he’ll do whatever you want lol

In the biggest twist of irony since The Incident, Belphie actually finds himself serving as your alarm clock. It has to be him, you see, because he insists on sleeping next to you. He wants to be there to ensure you sleep through the night, and don’t ever get woken up by cramps. So it’s gotta be him to wake you up when it’s absolutely necessary. Because you see, he does not trust anyone else to understand what’s absolutely necessary. Only someone who loves sleep as much as him gets it, he insists.

Belphie is nothing if not lazy. Obviously. But… he’s actually voluntarily doing work on your behalf?? He’s concealing bloodstains on your sheets from you so you don’t feel uncomfortable, and washing them for you. He isn’t even telling you about that, so he isn’t even getting any thanks for it! How very kind and un-demonic of him!

(Of course, he’s mostly doing it because he doesn’t want you to feel embarrassed and stop sleeping next to him while you’re on your period. He’s got selfish reasons. But… really, it’s not very selfish at all when you look at how that benefits you too. How could he be so surprised to hear that you think he can be kind and sweet when he wants to be? How’s he not seeing it??)

He may deny that he’s actually a sweetie, but you know the truth. When sloth incarnate is voluntarily doing secret chores for you, you KNOW he loves you. It might as well be spilling out of his soul, it’s so undeniable.

_______

You’re bleeding. It’s miserable. No one likes their period. It’s made much more bearable for you, however, now that you have this ridiculous family falling over themselves to make your life easier. All the pain, all the hormonal fuckery, all the bullshit your body puts you through is… well, actually quite tolerable when you’re loved this much.

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lincolndjarin · 1 year ago

Text

Best Kept Secret

chapter twenty six : crucifixion

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 12.7k

summary : judgement day.

warnings: major character death, above canon typical violence, very brief references to suicide, torture, body horror (briefly), feelings of despair, blood, wounds, general kodo grossness, vomit (reader vomits several times, it is never described in detail), language, angst, brief smut, pregnancy, death, reader is not doing well in this like she's at a breaking point, i may have missed some so feel free to let me know.

a/n: please read the warnings on this chap! it's the most serious of the bks updates, definitely a bit more intense than the rest. gonna work on getting 27 out within the next few day. i've been terrified of releasing this chapter since i started writing it so once i post this i'm going to dig a hole and sit in it and hide for a while lmao.

i changed my editing style so if there's spelling errors lmk!! apologies in advance!!

“My room is too big.”

He bursts into genuine peals of laughter and you gently smack his arm.

“Don’t laugh, it’s a serious issue! My room is enormous.” You’re giggling along with him now, it’s the hardest you’ve ever heard him laugh. You both just laugh for a few minutes, as if each other's company is the most amusing thing in the world.

Once your giggles fizzle out you wait another moment before breaking the silence.

“Where did you grow up?” You can’t see him but you can sense where he sits in the darkness, you crawl forward so you’re sitting between his legs, your own legs wrap around his waist. “I’m just curious.”

“Aq Vetina.” You can’t recall anything about the planet. You aren’t even sure you’ve heard of it.

“Do you remember your parents well? You don’t talk about them very much.” You put your hands on his shoulders, ever so slowly moving them up to his neck until you’re cupping his face.

“I’ll never forget them.” He whispers.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. We can’t change the past.” You rub your nose against his, bumping them together as you hum and nod. “My mother loved ships. We didn’t travel, we never had a reason to, but she would take me outside and we’d watch ships fly past. I could never comprehend how she knew the name for all of them, it blew my mind.” You wrap your arms around his neck, staying silent in hopes that he’ll continue, he so rarely speaks so much. “My father worked a lot but he always made time for us, he was always home in time to say goodnight to me. He was always around when I needed him, he always provided for us. On his day off he’d spend the whole day cooking, I’d sit on the kitchen counter and tell him what my mother and I had done that week. When she’d come home we’d all eat dinner together.”

“You sound like you were a happy child.” You can’t help but smile.

“I never had reason to be otherwise.” He says it so matter of factly that you don’t doubt it for a second. He was loved. It only makes you smile wider.

“What were you like, as a child?”

“Well behaved.” You immediately begin laughing once more.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Believe it. My mother homeschooled me, she always made sure I had manners. I wasn’t particularly athletic or talkative so I didn’t play with other kids a lot. It was just me and mama.” He sounds far away, it makes you want to hold him close and never let him go.

“So what did you do all day?” Your tone has softened significantly.

“I would sew.”

“Be serious.” He’s the one who laughs now at the disbelief in your voice.

“I am! I would sit with my mother after my lessons and we’d sew.” His fingertips dance along the back of your neck as he reminisces.

“What kinds of things?” You don’t tease. When you really think about it you suppose such a hobby is fitting for him. A task that requires precision and care.

“I would help her make clothes and blankets that she would sell most days. On the weekends she’d let me do whatever I wanted so I would practice my embroidery.”

“My heart is actually about to explode out of my chest, you’re so cute.” You put on a mocking tone but the thought of such a thing really does make your heart clench. “Little Din Djarin stitching his name into his clothes.”

“You’re a cruel woman.” He leans forward, knocking his forehead against yours, almost as if he were reprimanding you.

“What sorts of things would you embroider?” Your tone goes back to genuine, you could listen to him talk about himself for days and you’d never get bored.

“Whatever my mother wanted. I would ask her what I should do and then I’d stitch it onto her blanket or the hem of her skirt. Mostly flowers, she loved daisies.” You’re pretty sure one of your ovaries literally popped at the thought of a little boy with dark curls and big brown eyes sitting beside his mother and embroidering a daisy onto her skirt. Your heart flutters a bit as you think of the necklace he got you. The silver outline of a flower you now realize is a daisy. “If he was ever gone for more than one night for work my father would bring her daisies, one for each day he was away.”

“Do you still know how?”

“I used to fix Grogu’s clothes when he ripped them but I haven’t done much else since I was a boy. He says it with finality but you carry on, not wanting him to stop talking.

“What were their names? Your parents?”

“Clara and Arin Djarin.”

“Those are pretty names.”

“What was it like for you? You said you had seven siblings right?”

“Eight actually.” You think of them now. There were eight of you and your parents' love for all of you combined wasn’t even a tenth of how much Din’s parents loved him.

“Do you like having a big family?” He lifts you off of his lap, laying you back down as he crawls on top of you, laying against your chest.

“I love it. I miss my siblings everyday, do you think we’ll be able to visit them someday?”

“If it’s safe to, of course we will.” He tilts his head, if you weren’t in darkness he’d be looking at you.

“I wish they had visited here. They would have loved you.”

“You think?”

“Are you kidding me? The younger ones would adore you.” You tangle your finger in his hair, scratching his scalp. “Kids just naturally like you.”

“They just haven’t learned to fear me.” You frown when he says it like a fact.

“I think it’s more than that.”

“Yeah?” The hopeful tilt to his voice has you leaning down to press a kiss into his hair.

“Kids are intuitive, they can sense that you’re a good person.” He tenses up as you tell him he’s a good person. You know exactly what he’s thinking about now, how he punched your husband and then refused to leave.

Neither one of you wants to talk about that though, not today.

“What kind of room would you want? Since your current room isn’t to your liking.” He’s quick to change the subject and you let him.

“In all honesty, I like the cabin, I wish we could just live there.” You run your fingers through his curls as you think about it, gently pulling through any tangles.

“My cabin?” His voice is full of uncertainty as he pulls back a bit.

“It’s nice.” You feel a bit defensive, you consider the cabin to be the closest thing you have to a home. “Can you imagine getting to stay on Naboo? We could spend our mornings walking the market.” You rest your hand on the back of his neck now. “We could get jobs in the city, and then at night we’d come home.”

“To the cabin?” He still sounds rather skeptical of your hypothetical future.

“I’d cook dinner, you’d do the chores.”

“The cabin’s a bit small for us.”

“We’d make it a bit bigger, add a few bedrooms, we don’t need that much space.”

“A few?” He turns his head, his lips brush against your collar briefly as he kisses you there, freezing up when you speak again.

“At least two, one for us and then some for any little Djarin’s who might need space.” With that he sits up entirely, his legs straddle your stomach.

“Little Djarin’s?”

“And Grogu, he would come live with us as well.”

“You’d want him to live with us?”

“Of course, he’s a little Djarin.” Your hands rest on his thighs now as he seemingly ponders above you. He hums to himself in silence for a moment and you can’t help but grin at how seriously he’s taking all of this.

“How many?” He finally speaks again and you laugh at the bluntness of his question.

“Kids?”

“How many would you want?”

“You go first.” You haven’t ever talked about this sort of thing so you want to gauge his answer first so you don’t scare him too much with all the kids talk.

“Maybe five? Or six.”

“Six?” Your voice pitches up immediately and you feel a rumble in his chest as he laughs.

“Or five.”

“How about two, counting Grogu.” Turns out you didn’t need to worry about scaring him off.

“How about three?” Three is manageable.

“Counting Grogu?”

“Counting Grogu.” He seems satisfied with that.

“I suppose we could have three, you’re the one who has to build all the extra bedrooms.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I’d work at the library and you’d work in a shipyard, we’d take turns staying home with the kids.” You pull him back to you, taking his hands and dragging him to lay his head on your chest once more.

“I’ve got enough savings, neither one of us has to work if you’d like.” It sends a twinge of pain to your heart how real this conversation has become, knowing that this exact dream isn’t possible.

You could always make parts of it real.

Someday.

“I’d want to work, to get out of the house, but you could stay home if you’d like.”

“When they’re still ik’aad, at least for the first few years I’d want to be with them.” He’s going to be a wonderful father.

“Then I’d work, not long hours, just enough to get me out of the house, when I come home I’d give you a break, you could do the shopping and I’d watch the little’s.”

“We’d go as a family, I wouldn’t want ‘a break.’”

“You’d want to wrangle three kids in the markets?” You scoff in disbelief but he continues to sound completely serious.

“They’d be well behaved.” You seriously doubt that.

“What about either one of us makes you think our children will be well behaved? Is Grogu well behaved?”

“We’ll manage.”

“They’ll be wild.” They will, not they would.

“And smart.” He sits up again, hovering above you to give you a quick kiss.

“And happy.” There isn’t a doubt in your mind that your children would be happy with Din as their father.

“You’d really want to live here? I could build us a house anywhere.”

“I like Naboo, at least everything outside of the castle. I don’t even mind the castle, I just don’t care for the people inside it.” It’s true, somewhere along the way this place grew on you immensely. You love the city and the people in it. “And they’d get to play in the garden.”

“I would build you a cabin anywhere you wanted, and I’d plant you a new garden.” He kisses along your cheeks and forehead as he speaks.

“You wouldn’t need to plant me a garden if we lived here.” You insist.

“We can’t live here, mesh’la.” He rubs a small circle with his thumb against your cheek. “This is too serious now, we’re supposed to be relaxed today.”

“When did we agree on that?” You muster up a weak laugh.

“It was a silent mutual agreement.”

“I’m plenty relaxed.” You mumble. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his stubble tickling you as you let out an airy giggle.

“I’m actually very tense and I think we should take a break from all this talking and take care of that.” He mumbles against your shoulder.

“Oh?”

“Mhmm.” He emphasizes his point by pressing his erection against your hip, you hadn’t even realized that this is where he was going with that.

“How long have you been waiting to jump me?”

“When we started talking about the five kids I was gonna put in you.” He continues to nip at your neck and shoulders as he speaks.

“Skipping the agreed upon three and going straight to five already? You’re not even going to attempt to negotiate for four?”

“So you’re open to four?” He pulls back and you can hear his smile.

“Let’s start with one and go from there.”

“Right now?” His hips stutter down a bit against yours.

“Maker, you’re insatiable.” You both burst into another fit of laughter.

“What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“I could get pregnant, and considering the lack of sex I’ve had with my husband I’m sure that might raise a few eyebrows.”

“It would never get to that point, when we’re in the clear with this whole Kodo mess I’m getting you out of here.”

“Like… actually leaving Naboo?”

“Exactly like that. I’m gonna take you far away from here when this is over, gonna keep you all for myself.” His hands move down, giving your hips a squeeze.

“I’m already yours.” You laughed, rolling over to be on top of him. He’s right, if you’re going to leave anyway then what’s the worst thing that could happen?

You never talked about that night after that.

When everything sorted itself out you realized how crazy your fear had made you. You couldn’t just leave. At least that’s what you’d told yourself, now you feel like an idiot for not holding him to his words. It wasn’t realistic, you both knew actually leaving would take so much more preparation than a few whispered ideas during a time where neither one of you was in any position to be making such promises.

It was just talk.

Lysa came to get you from the dining room.

After everyone left you had no motivation to move, you just stood there, frozen in time. After a few hours she found you, she had taken your hand and walked you back to your chambers. She held your hand, she kept you upright when you threatened to crumble. And when you felt a wave of nausea ripple through you she rushed you to the fresher, a hand on your back as you threw up all over again.

You sat breathlessly on the tile, Lysa rubbing your back.

“Gods, I’ve been nauseous since the wedding. Even before everything fell apart.” It’s the first words you’ve spoken since they took Din, your stomach is still churning. “This has never happened before.” You groan, you’ve had many moments of upset throughout your life, but none that made you physically ill. Lysa looks almost painfully worried.

“Ma’am… is there a chance you might be…”

Kriff.

You never talked about that night after that.

Maybe you should have.

You both did a lot of things during those days. You had been so angry, and he had done everything in his power to ease that anger, to keep both of you as happy as someone could be in your situation.

You shouldn’t have used that as an excuse to be reckless.

“I’d like to go to bed.”

“Of course.” She helps you to your feet, walking you back to your room, you turn to her one last time before you close the door.

“I’m sorry. Elaine never should have gotten involved in all this.” You’d trade places with her in a heartbeat if you could.

“It’s not your fault.” She truly seems to believe that.

Except it is. Elaine never would have found herself in this situation if she hadn’t so often been helping the two of you keep your secret.

“Goodnight, Lysa.”

“Goodnight, princess.”

You lay on the bed, unable to bring yourself to sleep in the closet.

It’s cold. Colder than Hoth, as you stare at the ceiling in your far too big bed in your far too big room. Even bigger now that it’s just you.

You let your hand roam down your torso to rest on your stomach.

Just you, hopefully.

☆

You’re now having nightly dinners with Kodo.

You don’t get any respite from him, you just want to stay in bed. You’re nauseous and tired and your head hasn’t stopped spinning since that night. A million thoughts a minute.

Where is he?

Is he okay?

What the fuck can I do about it?

Mostly that.

The worst part is your lack of a plan. If the roles were reversed Din would have already rescued you and you’d be living happily ever after.

But that isn’t how your story is going. Instead you are alone, with no scheme on how to get to him. It’s only been three days but it’s driving you insane, you have never known such hopelessness, it’s maddening. To sit alone in your room all day, staring at the ceiling until Lysa comes to dress you for dinner. Neither one of you ever speaks, afterall, what would you say to each other?

“I’m sorry the love of your life had been sentenced to die?”

How morbid.

Not that you’re above being morbid.

You think about it often. How easy it would be to drive your dinner knife into Kodo’s throat. You’re seated beside him now at dinner, both of you at the head of the table, joined by the rest of his family.

The thought of killing him is the only thing that brings you peace these days. You’ve never once in your life been violent until now. Din is good. He’s a good man. In every way he is the opposite of your husband yet Din is the one locked away, Maker knows where, while Kodo is being rewarded.

It doesn’t make you mad, it makes you furious.

It makes you want to poison his wine.

But you don’t have poison.

And you can’t put yourself in danger. Because you feel fundamentally different, and even if you refuse to think that such a thing is possible you know you wouldn’t just be putting yourself in danger. There’s more at stake now.

That’s what you tell yourself to stay calm, a feat that is getting harder by the minute as you’re sat beside Kodo who is currently bragging about how he defeated a Mandalorian.

“They aren’t as strong as you think they are. Under the armor they’re weak, pathetic.”

It took six battle droids to keep him down. You didn’t even get near him.

“Some people just need to be taught a lesson, don’t touch what isn’t yours.” He sneers and the rest of the table erupts into laughter. “I certainly taught that horned bitch a lesson as well, you all should have seen what they brought me last night.”

You perk up, this is the only thing they’ve said in days that truly matters to you. You’ve heard nothing about the current state of either of them until now.

“What did they do to Elaine?” Everyone’s head turns to you, all their expressions look as if you’ve announced something treasonous but Kodo smiles as if he were explaining something to a child.

“She was properly punished, the way someone who observed such a crime with no intervention should be.” He puts his hand over yours when he says it.

You don’t ask for any follow up.

You don’t think you could stomach it, so you stay silent for the rest of your meal. When you’re finished you stand, the rest of the table is starting to pour more drinks but you simply lean down, mumbling something about being tired before giving Kodo a quick kiss on the cheek and dismissing yourself.

You’re waiting for the night where he joins you in your chambers, after all his father is dead, but it has yet to happen. He had told you that once he was king he would be in need of heirs but he seems happy enough with his pleasure houses and you’re more than grateful for the women you entertain him so you don’t have to.

So you return to your chambers alone, peeling off your gown before burying yourself under the covers.

Sleep evades you as you toss and turn. You aren’t even tired, there’s too much going on in your mind, there’s no room for exhaustion. After about an hour you manage to drift in and out of unconsciousness, earning a brief reprieve from your anxieties until a sharp knocking has you jolting upright.

You don your robe, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you rush to the door, you’re too tired to wonder who might even be bothering you at such an hour as you pull the door open.

Lysa?

“We have to hurry, ma’am.” She grabs your arm, frantically tugging you into the hall.

“Lysa? What are you doing? Are you okay?”

“I am fine, but we don’t have much time.”

“Surely you have enough to tell me where we are going.”

“Do you want to see him or not?”

Din.

You nod, taking her hand as he rushes onward, stopping at each hall to peer around the corners until you make your way to a servants stairwell, skipping several steps in your descent until you run out of stairs. You’ve never been down here, you didn’t even know there were dungeons until recently.

It makes your stomach twist in knots the moment you stare into the darkness.

“Are there no guards?” You whisper, squeezing her hand.

“Not for the next hour, I’ve made sure of it.” She begins walking down the poorly lit corridor, pulling you along behind her.

The stone floor is damp and it smells of mildew. Your bare feet are already freezing after just a few steps.

Every cell you pass is lit from the outside with a hanging lantern, they’re mostly empty, but you catch glimpses of movement out of the corner of your eye every now and then. In all honesty you’re doing your best to take in as little as possible, you don’t want to think about Din being down here in such a place, but there’s one element you can’t ignore.

The wailing.

Someone is weeping, a low, sorrowful song filling the vast maze of halls and you realize quickly you’re heading in its direction, Lysa tenses beside you as you continue on. You’re about to turn one more corner when she abruptly stops, turning to face you.

“He needs to eat.” She removes a fistful of rations from her apron pocket, shoving them into your hands.

“He hasn’t?” He’s been down here for three days.

“He won’t… let me.” You pause, cocking your head to the side and she gives you an apologetic look when she turns. “He won’t let me uncover his face.”

Oh.

“I’ll feed him.” You nod slowly, tucking them into your own pockets before turning the corner. The contents of the cell immediately on your right have you stumbling backwards but Lysa is not swayed, pulling a key from her pocket, unlocking the door quickly before handing it to you.

“He’s two cells down, on your right.” She doesn’t look at you as she rushes in, pulling a roll of bandages from her dress. “Shh… it’s okay, I’m here.” Her voice goes soft as she kneels beside Elaine. You can’t help it as you step into the entryway of the cell.

Well, you’ve found the source of the wailing.

She’s sat on a cot, curled in on herself as Lysa carefully peels back a series of soiled bandages from her face.

“I’ve got you, it’s just me.” She continues to make an attempt to sooth a rather hysterical Elaine as she peels back the final layer of bandages and your stomach flips. “You’re okay, love, I need to change these.” You don’t know how Lysa is so calm, even in the darkness you can see the extent of her wounds. Now you know what they brought Kodo last night.

Both eyes.

“She was properly punished, the way someone who observed such a crime with no intervention should be.”

Oh gods.

You’re worried you may collapse as you watch Lysa tend to her with no hesitation, cleaning them with a careful hand before she begins to redress them. You can’t bear to watch any longer as Elaine begins sobbing once more. You try desperately to force the sight of your mutilated friend from your mind as you count down two more cells before quickly fumbling for the lock, letting it hit the floor as you take the lantern outside the door off its hook, bringing it into the dark room.

It isn’t like Elaine’s cell.

There’s no bed or interior light, it’s terribly dark and fetid, his cell running deeper than her’s. It takes a few steps for you to finally illuminate the room enough to see him.

Maker.

What have they done to your Din?

You don’t hear Elaine anymore, there isn't a single thing that could distract you from the scene in front of you. There is nothing but the sight of your kar’ta. There’s too much for you to worry about, you don’t even know where to start, you’re frozen in place, a small part of your brain refuses to recognize the man before you as Din at all. He shouldn’t look like this.

Armorless.

They’ve stripped him of any clothing you recognize, the thought alone makes you nearly lose your dinner.

They took his helmet, replacing it with a linen sack.

Did they see his face?

You briefly have to shut your eyes, taking a deep breath as you take in the rest of him. His clothes are too thin, he must be freezing, they’ve dressed him in a cotton tunic and trousers that end just below the knee. You can see just how beaten and bruised he is. Unlike Elaine he’s in chains, kneeling on the floor with his hands shackled, taut above his head. You swallow the lump in your throat and finally crouch down in front of him, setting the lantern down beside you as you reach out to place a hand on his chest.

“Din…” Your voice cracks and the moment you come in contact with him he flinches back. Suddenly you know how Lysa held it together so well with Elaine, she just had to. You can’t fall apart, who would care for him now if you did? “It’s me, just me. Just me.” You whisper and place a hand over his heart but withdraw it quickly when he trembles under your touch. You ache at the sight of it but more than anything you’re confused, it only takes a moment for you to realize the issue.

He doesn’t have his helmet. They’ve not only left him here blind, but deaf, of course any touch would frighten him.

He assumes you're here to harm him.

You lean in, careful not to come in contact with him as you speak clearly and loudly.

“Din?” His trembling stops instantly. You find it a bit troublesome how much worse his hearing seems to have gotten in such a short time, you’re half tempted to reach under the bag to make sure he still has his ears.

“Sarad?” Oh, Din. His voice is terribly small and it sends you forward, wrapping your arms around him as you pull him into an unreciprocated embrace.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You make sure to speak loud enough for him before pulling back, placing your hands against the fabric covering his face.

“Are you okay?” He coughs a bit as he asks and you almost laugh at how ridiculous the question is considering the state he’s in. Are you okay?

Technically no.

But far better than he’s doing.

“I’m perfectly fine, what can I do for you? Are you hurting?” You feel his face through the bag as you look down across his body. It doesn’t look like there’s been any permanent damage outside of a pretty nasty cut on one of his legs.

“Don’t worry about me.”

“Now’s not the time to play the hero, Din.” He flinches a little and you calm your tone immediately. What the hell did they do to him? “Just let me help.”

“How’d you get down here?”

“Lysa, she says you aren’t eating.”

“She’d have to lift my- the bag to do it.” He sounds apologetic, as if you could ever fault him for following his creed.

“It’s okay… may I?” You bring your hands to the hem of the bag but his head turns sharply.

“I- I don’t want you to look.”

You have no response. He’s always wanted you to look.

“I just, I don’t think you wanna see the condition I’m in. I don’t want your only memories of my face to be this.” He whispers when you don’t respond.

You should have looked when he asked you to. You should have done a lot of things differently.

You shouldn’t have waited so long to look.

You shouldn't have waited so long to tell him you loved him.

You should have just let yourself love him. Why did you fight it for so long? It seems silly now. If you could do it all again you would have just taken his helmet off the first night you met him and you would have married him right then and there. You would have left Naboo that night.

And you would never keep any of it from him. You would tell him how important he is and how loved he is, you wouldn’t make him wait.

Even now you can’t help it though, censoring yourself out of fear. Do you tell him about how nauseous you get every morning? About the way Lysa stares at your belly when she does your makeup?

No.

It wouldn’t do either of you any good, not when he’s in this situation.

You take hold of the edges of the bag once more, gentler this time.

“I’ll close my eyes.” You lift the fabric completely off of him, setting it in your lap as you simultaneously shut your eyes. You keep one hand on his face, using your thumb to find the corner of his mouth as your other hand fumbles to open a ration bar. You feel him part his lips as you feed him. He’s barely chewing, eating quickly and swallowing most of it whole. “Have they fed you at all?” You whisper as he finishes the first bar in a matter of seconds, his teeth lightly scraping against your fingers before you withdraw them, tearing open another bar.

“No.” His voice is still soft as you go to feed him once more, opening each package until he’s eaten them all.

“Are you still hungry? I could see if Lysa has more.”

“I’m okay.” You let your head fall forward, resting your forehead on his.

“What else can I do for you?”

“Nothing. Being here is enough.”

If you had felt helpless before it was nothing compared to this. This is more than helplessness, it’s despair.

“I’m sorry.” You pull yourself further into his lap, wrapping your arms around him in the process.

“Hey… none of this is your fault.” It certainly feels like it is. Why does he keep comforting you when he’s the one shivering and alone down here?

“Please, there has to be something I can do to help you.”

“There is one thing.” You almost open your eyes, you're so relieved, you just want to ease his pain.

“Anything. I’ll do anything.”

“I need you to promise me you won’t look.”

“Won’t look?” Your eyes are already closed, you couldn’t look any less if you tried.

“When they do it. I don’t want you to see it- it won’t be pretty.”

When they separate his head from his body.

“I won’t.” You can’t deny him this, you’ll give him anything he wants. “Do you know how much I love you?” You whisper before leaning forward another inch to kiss him.

The question is genuine. It terrifies you to your core to think that he may not know just how much you love him.

“Of course sarad.” He murmurs against your lips until you let your head rest on his shoulder, fighting back tears.

What do you say now?

What do you say to a man condemned to death?

“I love you.” You mumble into the thin fabric of his tunic.

“I love you too.” After a moment more with him you hear metal jingling as Lysa locks Elaine's cell once more. You quickly pull back from him, pulling the bag back over his head, once you know he can’t see you anymore the tears flow freely. Lysa steps into the cell and you remove your robe, wrapping it around him, immediately he begins to protest.

“Mesh’la, you can’t leave this here.” His voice is strained and it makes you sick to think he started crying once he was out of sight as well.

“Please, y-you’re gonna freeze.”

“They’ll know you were here, sarad’ika.”

“Din…” You’re practically babbling as Lysa removes your robe from his shoulders, an apologetic look on her face as she grabs your arm.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but we need to go.” Tears sting your eyes as Lysa urges you to hurry but you don’t want to leave him, you want to stay, no matter the consequence. You pull away from her, wrapping your arms around his torso.

“You need to go.” His voice is urgent through the fabric as you cling to him tighter.

Would it be easier to just stay? Get caught and join him at the executioners? You’re genuinely considering it when you feel your stomach churn once more and you’re reminded of the exact reason why you can’t stay. Before you lose your nerve and shatter completely you lift the bag, just enough to give you an eyeful of his split lip and bruised jaw as you gently lean in and kiss him one more time.

Doing everything in your power to remember exactly what it feels like.

The curve of his lips and the shape of his chin, the overgrown stubble brushing against your skin as you press your face harder against his, desperation taking over as you taste salt on his lips. You hold him as long as you can, until you hear Lysa urging you to make haste once more.

“I love you.” You press your forehead to his through the fabric, feeling the familiar shape of his face against yours.

“I’ll always be yours.”

That was the last thing he was able to say before you let Lysa drag you out of the dungeons.

☆

It’s like everythings suddenly back to the beginning.

You wake up alone, you go to bed alone, and you wander the castle alone.

There is no plotting or scheming to free Din.

Even if you were a trained killer or bounty hunter, it would be more than difficult to get him out of the dungeon and on a ship off Naboo. It would be even harder to do so when you’re one of the most recognizable people on the planet.

He is buried deep beneath the ground and there is nothing you can do about it.

After all, you're just a doll.

You don’t know when it happened but all your clothes are blue again. Every dress Lysa fetches from the closet is a different shade of blue and all your nightgowns are the color of the sky. A personal brand put on you by Kodo. It’s clearly more than just a preference now, it’s a reminder to you and everyone else that you’re his.

And time blends.

You know a date was set right around the time you visited him. One week until Kodo’s coronation and two until the execution. His first public event after being crowned king will be a death sentence, how fitting.

So you wake.

And you sleep.

And you walk.

Kodo never replaces Din and you haven’t seen Leo since that night, so you’re completely alone. It’s like he’s rubbing in the fact that you’re powerless. There’s no need for you to have a guard, you can’t leave. If you tried you’d be escorted back in an instant.

You tried to convince Lysa to let you see him again last night.

“Please, just a few minutes-“

“I’m sorry ma’am, it’s just not possible. The only reason I was able to get you down there the first time was because the guard that usually lets me in was working nights, he won’t be working nights again until next month.”

Din won’t live to see next month.

“Is he eating?”

“He won’t let me-“

“You need to insist. Tell him I insist, and tell him you’ll close your eyes.”

She pins back a bit of your hair, leaving half up and half down. You both bask in the silence for a moment.

“I’ll make sure he eats.”

“Thank you.”

That had been the last conversation you had with Lysa.

She doesn’t come to dress you in the morning. You think nothing of it and dress yourself in the gown she’d laid out last night. It’s a bit difficult, putting your coronation gown on on your own but eventually you manage, when you’re fully dressed in the obscenely decadent blue fabric you begin to worry.

You have no reason to assume that everything is fine. It would actually make sense for this to be a worst case scenario situation, everything else in your life is right now.

You’re about to leave in search of her but you decide against it. Sitting at the vanity and doing your makeup as quickly as possible, the last thing you need to do right now is give Kodo a reason to be upset with you, you have to be presentable. You smear the shimmering blue eyeshadow across your lids before rushing out of your room.

The halls are full. Servants move quickly from room to room, cleaning every inch as you carefully push through the crowds, making a beeline towards the dining room.

Kodo is seething when you push open the large doors.

He stands at the end of the table, shoving an armored guard as the veins in his neck jut out in his rage.

“Where could she have possibly gone? She’s blind. You’re telling me some blind bitch outsmarted my entire guard?”

Your heart flutters at the thought.

They escaped.

Your hope is shattered the moment Kodo begins speaking again.

“At least we still have the Mandalorian… I want security tripled, guards stationed outside his cell at all times.” He continues grumbling for a moment until he realizes you’re there. “Happy coronation day dear wife! I’m afraid we’ve had a rough morning here, somehow in the night the Togruta girl escaped, do not fret, we’ll find her.”

God's you hope not.

Even if things are worse than ever regarding Din there is one flicker of light in that darkness. Lysa got Elaine out. Knowing that almost puts you at ease.

“Happy coronation day.” You actually manage a smile when you look at your husband, it’s weak but it’s genuine. You want to be mad that they didn’t help Din escape but you just can’t be. You know they most likely tried but if the roles had been reversed and you could only get one of them out you wouldn’t hesitate.

So there is no animosity. Just a flicker of happiness for them.

They got out.

☆

You were under the impression that a coronation was a happy event. Yet when you step out onto the castle steps it seems to be quite the opposite.

They look miserable.

All of their faces are sullen and dejected. How shocking, no one is excited about Kodo being crowned king. He didn’t have any of the outside of the castle decorated or made presentable in any way. No one reacts when Kodo reads from an ancient looking book until a crown is placed on his head.

A moment afterwards you’re instructed to kneel and a tiara is placed onto your head.

The audience is silent and you feel shame when you stare out at them.

Even if you don’t have very much power you still feel as if you’ve failed them. The feeling follows you when you’re directed to the dining hall with Kodo.

“I have a couple gifts for you, wife.” His twisted smile makes your stomach turn as you enter the dining hall, now decorated with blue and gray banners.

“A gift? You shouldn’t have, my king, I- I didn’t get you anything.” You feign remorse as you take a sip of the wine in front of you on instinct before spitting it back up into the cup.

“That’s more than okay, you’re my gift, sweet wife, all mine.” The thought of such a thing makes you sick, you smile despite yourself.

“That’s very kind.” You’ll only ever be Din’s. No amount of blue fabric and faux smiles can change that. He snaps his fingers and a large box is brought to you by a servant, they set it directly in front of you on the table. You look at Kodo who nods, sitting back in his chair as you stand, the box is wrapped in checkered blue paper, a large bow adorning the top. Your hands tremble a bit as you take hold of the edges of the ribbon, tugging on them until the bow slips free, much to your surprise the entire box falls open, the sides collapsing giving you an immediate view of the contents.

The silver, shimmering contents.

Din’s helmet.

Polished like new, it sits before you, and the room suddenly empties. It’s as if you are completely alone, despite all the eyes that are most definitely pinned on you right now. Your hands continue to shake as your fingers wrap around the beskar steel, like you would when you held Din’s face, lifting it to glare into the visor.

Empty.

You can’t help but stare at your own emptiness reflected back at you.

You want to hold it close, press it to your forehead but you’re snapped back to reality by the grating sound of Kodo’s voice breaking you from your focus on the helm between your hands.

“That’s only one of your presents, open the next one.” He hisses gleefully.

You set the helmet down, realizing there was another, much smaller box underneath it. Silently you scoop it up and cradle it in your hands. It’s a larger than a ring box, it just barely fits in your palm as you ever so gently open it, swinging the top open as if it were a tiny treasure chest.

Huh.

It takes a moment.

You aren’t exactly sure what it is you’re looking at at first but when it registers your entire body tenses up, your grip tightening on the gift box.

Bloody and pink, a tongue.

Of course you know better than to assume Kodo would give you any old tongue. This is a special someone’s tongue.

No, no, no, no, no.

You had loved his tongue before anything else.

He can’t do this, he cannot do this to you.

You had fallen for his sharp wit first, it was what drew you into him. His sweet words had won you back, his declaration of devotion.

Now you hold all of that in the palm of your hand.

“What do we say?” His nasally voice breaks through your mental anguish.

No.

“Come on, where are your manners?”

Please.

“Thank you.” Your whisper is nearly silent as you struggle to keep down the scream bubbling in your throat.

“What was that?”

You clear your throat.

“Thank you.”

He makes you take it with you. You don’t bother telling him you won’t be attending the coronation ball in a few minutes, it’s not like you’ll be missed.

In one arm you’re cradling his helmet, in the other the little blue box.

You set each one down carefully onto the bed, even if it’s a bit demented these are the only parts of him you have left. You stare at the little box.

You have never been hateful.

Kodo made you into this. You are full of hate, for most things at this point. You hate your husband, you hate your room, and most of all you hate the little blue box on the bed.

And the music starts.

It must be deafening in the hall for you to hear it from your room but it’s there, loud and demanding of your attention.

You’re moving before you even have a chance to think about it, in a few quick strides you’re standing beside the vanity, your hands gripping the top of the mirror as you pull it down in one swift motion, the contents spill everywhere and the glass shatters in an instant, shards splattering the floor but you take no time to process it.

You move on to the next thing.

You yank each drawer from the dresser, throwing them to the floor, clothes strewn about until it’s light enough for you to push the entire dresser over. In your frenzy you go about the room toppling every stupid fucking table over. So many fucking end tables in one room, and you throw everyone to the floor, trinkets and vases clattering to the ground as you destroy the room. You get a rush of adrenaline as you lift one of your nightstands and throw it against the wall leaving a small dent but more importantly the force of it makes anything hanging on the wall tumble to the floor, glass frames shatter.

Your chest heaves as you stare at the carnage.

And it isn’t enough.

Your face is wet with tears and your hands with blood from cuts you didn’t feel upon your skin as you tear open the closet door, the pile of blankets mock you from the floor, you grab them, your vision now blurry with tears as you pull them out of the closet, throwing them onto your bedroom floor. When you return to the closet you’re in a frenzy, you tear at the fabric before you, yanking each and every dress off their hangers, ripping what you can.

There is nothing else for you to do, so you destroy everything you can get your hands on until the only thing left untouched is your bed, left in pristine condition as you let out a small sob.

Maybe you are a hateful person now.

You feel as though you have every right to be at this point.

You step over the shard of glass, giving your bloody hands a glance before wiping them on your gown.

Happy coronation day.

You sit on the bed, your trembling fingers wrap around the helmet, now that you’re alone you waste no time to hold it against you face, until your body just gives up, too tired to stay awake anymore.

☆

A guard wakes you in the morning, knocking on your door, when you answer it they tell you Kodo requires your presence in his chambers.

You dress in a blue gown that you don’t look too closely at. Stopping at the fresher on the way, rinsing the dried gore from your palms, wincing as you clean your wounds. None of which seem too deep.

You want to cut Kodo’s tongue out, to make him feel it. But you know that sort of thing would be an impossible task. So you daydream about it as you walk. You’re more than displeased when you open the door and are greeted by Leodall. You hadn’t seen him since that night and from the looks of it he wasn’t expecting you. He swallows loudly when you step inside Kodo’s room.

Normally you’d be curious, you’d probably take a look around but your eyes refuse to focus on anything but Leo as you scowl at him.

“Why’d you do it?” You don’t hesitate to ask, you have no idea how quickly Kodo will be joining you.

He simply stares at you, shame apparent on his face.

“You owe me an explanation at the very least.” You cross your arms in front of your chest as he clears his throat.

“I thought he’d reward me.”

You laugh. A harsh dry sound

“What could he have possibly given you that you couldn’t have just asked me for?” Your gaze never softens and you’re practically seeing red as you stare at him.

“I thought he’d give me a lordship.”

You can’t help it as another crisp and pained laugh slips past your lips.

“You thought Kodo would raise your status? I thought you were supposed to be smart.” Is he an idiot? “He doesn’t see servants as people, if you wanted such a thing you could have asked me, maybe I could have done something.”

A glimmer of something similar to hope flashes through his eyes.

“Would you- would you consider doing so now?”

“You cannot be serious-” Your expression goes from fury to disbelief as you stand.

“It seemed worth asking.” He puts his hands up defensively as you storm up to him, poking a finger into his face.

“You slimy little weasel, it should be you on the chopping block, not him. If it were up to me I’d have them put your head on a spike.” The words pour out of you like venom.

“I would be nicer to me if I were you.” He sneers and your incredulity only grows. You can’t help it, you scoff in his face.

“I would rather die.” A part of you really means it.

“You might if you aren’t careful, I saved your life by letting Elaine and your Mandalorian take the fall, I could have told the king that you were a willing participant. I saw the two of you together, I read your little rules. He never forced himself on you. I wonder what Kodo might think about that.” You aren’t a fighter, you’ve never so much as thrown a punch in your life but you grab him by the collar of his shirt and slam him into the wall, the back of his head hits the stone and you don’t feel an ounce of remorse as you do so.

“Do it.” You tilt your head to the side, almost as if you’re taunting him. “Tell him.” Any of the confidence he briefly had is gone in an instant. “The moment you do I’ll tell him that you’re covering your tracks, and that you made a pass at me. I wonder how Kodo would reward you for trying to touch what’s his?” Leo’s head turns as you both hear Kodo’s piercing voice in the hall. You release your grip on his shirt, brushing off your gown as you turn towards the door. Kodo and three others make their way into the room as Leo coughs behind you.

“Dear wife, I have another gift for you.” He takes a step to the side, gesturing at a line of three people you don’t give so much as a glance. He doesn’t even seem to notice the obvious tension in the room. “A new staff!”

“I don’t need a new staff, I’m fine on my own.” You abandon the pleasantries. You’re in such a state of upset right now, what's the point?

“You’re the queen now, staff is required. These three will replace the ones you've lost in a week, until then Leodall will be training them intensively to tend to your every need. Two guards will also be assigned to you but I promise they will be much less loathsome than your Mandalorian.”

All five of them will be trained to keep an eye on you. To report back to Kodo, after everything with Din you should have known he’d keep you on a shorter leash.

You barely look at them.

You hate them.

You shouldn’t, they’ve done nothing wrong, but you hate them.

You give each one a quick up and down, naming them in your mind.

A BD-3000 droid commands the most authority just based on how she stands so you mentally note her as Elaine's replacement. You’ll call her new Elaine.

New Lysa is a pasty young blonde woman with rosy cheeks. You truly wonder how well informed she has been on your circumstance. She’s smiling from ear to ear and seemingly couldn’t be happier to be here.

And new Leo is somehow even more nervous looking than actual Leo, practically shaking like a leaf at the sight of you. The bags under his eyes are worse than your own. A lanky thing with messy brown hair.

There’s no reason for you to fight this, Kodo always gets his way so why bother. So you nod. You don’t pretend to be grateful this time, instead you shove your way past all of them, content to return to your room and never leave.

☆

The morning of the execution comes before you’re ready for it.

Of course you didn’t sleep last night, how could you?

You dress yourself, apparently your new staff isn’t starting until tomorrow, not that you mind another day to yourself. You manage to find something that isn’t blue, a gray dress trimmed with gold, the closest thing you’ll find to funeral attire. No one else will dress with any respect for him but they can’t stop you. Your vanity is destroyed so you don’t bother with your hair or your makeup, you simply don’t care enough.

For the most part you feel nothing when you open the door, only emptiness until you look down.

Someone left you a small vase of flowers.

You pick them up, taking a closer look but your heart skips a beat when you do so.

Daisies.

After a few short breaths you throw the vase into the wall across from your door, tiny shards of porcelain fly everywhere as two servants at the end of the hall give you a look of horror. Your shoes crunch over the remains of it as you make your way down the hall and to the entryway of the castle.

Kodo insists that the two of you get to see him first.

You’re sweating wildly out on the steps as you wait.

Long before you’re ready for it they bring him out.

A shivering skeleton of a man with a linen bag over his head, immediately bile rises in your throat. Kodo is grinning ear to ear when his legs are kicked out from under him and he’s forced to kneel.

Kodo himself reaches forward and tears the bag off, too excited for any decorum or finesse.

You gasp as you stare down at the broken man before you.

In all honesty he isn’t at all what you envisioned.

His eyes verge on being hazel; they're such a light brown. You’d always pictured them to be nearly black. It doesn’t matter what color they are though, when you see the tears forming in his lash line you flinch, clutching the ring on your necklace to silently let him know silently just how much he means to you.

He’s a mess.

You don’t like looking at what those weeks in the dungeons did to him and the last thing you need to do right now is empty your stomach on the palace steps.

He’s too thin. Far, far, too thin, it’s like his entire being has shrunk down. He’s hollow.

Your breath hitches when Kodo grabs a fistful of his dark hair, forcing him to turn and stare at the crowd. They must have cut it while he was down there it’s a mess, jagged edges and shorter than you’re used to.

“This man has committed an act of treason against the crown.” His voice is loud and booming as the city goes quiet. “For such a crime he shall face the proper punishment.” He yanks him downawards, you watch in horror as Din’s head hits the stone, an incoherent mess of sounds pour from his bloody mouth and you have to look away.

He didn’t want you to look.

You remind yourself to try and calm your breathing. You can hear the scuffle as they drag him to the guillotine, placing his neck into the wooden divot, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest as you turn to look. His eyes are everywhere but on you as he looks at the people around him, desperately pleading for his life. Not a single person so much as glances at him, afterall, it’s just nonsense, no one can understand him without a tongue.

You can’t stand it, you almost cover your ears but you manage to resist as Kodo puts an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“You’re welcome, sweet wife.” He whispers, his breath hot and wet against your ear.

Fuck it.

You don’t suppress the shudder in your spine as you shoot him a look of disgust. In a matter of moments everything you care about will be gone, why pretend any longer.

A bellowing chime plays from a nearby clock tower and you know it’s time, you straighten up as you stare at the guillotine in abject horror.

This is it.

Your chest rises and falls in sharp short bursts as everyone prepares themselves, a hush forming among the crowd on the street.

And it begins, a chain reaction that you cannot stop now that the executioner has his ax raised above his head.

You had expected more. More time.

A part of you thought that time would slow, that you’d have a chance to stop it.

But no.

There is no epic fairy tale moment where the sun glimmers off of the blade and the executioner raises his ax, giving you this perfect moment to run to him, to shield him from the inevitable, to beg them to take you with him.

That moment never comes.

You barely have enough time to close your eyes like you promised him. In one unbroken motion the rope is cut, the blade falls and boom.

Just like that, he’s gone.

When you hear the metal slicing through the air you squeeze your eyes shut, hearing only the wet crunch as it cuts through flesh and bone. A soft, squishy thud when his head hits the stone.

In fashion with your decision to no longer hide your disgust from Kodo you vomit. Bending down you puke onto the stones, spraying your own, and Kodo’s feet. The triumphant smile on his face vanishes as he realizes what’s happened. You wipe your mouth on the back of your hand, refusing to look at Din’s limp body as you give Kodo one last look of detestation before turning around and running back into the castle, not caring what anyone thinks anymore.

The moment you’re inside the reality of it all settles in as you feel tears falling wildly as you run up the steps to your room.

☆

You have been good, and kind, and in return the maker rewarded you by killing the love of your life.

So when you stand in the center of your demolished room you do the only thing your body can do at this point.

You scream.

From deep within your stomach, you scream, loud and raw.

If anything was left unbroken in your room you’d be throwing it at the wall. But there’s nothing so you scream.

You shriek.

You howl.

And you wail.

You scream until there is no more noise. Your voice, like the rest of you, gives up.

You aren’t sure how late it is when you finally stop. You’re tired and it’s dark outside and your throat is raw.

And you lay on the floor. Because the bed is too big, and too cold, and the closet is so empty. So the only place left to sleep is there. You lay on the floor with no more tears to cry and no more sounds to scream as you stare at your bed, only from this angle can you see a rectangular shape under your bed frame.

You wipe your nose with a stray piece of fabric before slowly crawling over to it, you sit on the floor and when you retrieve the item a brand new lump forms in your throat as you stare down at the box Din had bought all those days ago at the market.

Your failsafe.

With quivering hands you open it, staring into the small space containing a mess of items but what catches your eye is a piece of folded paper with your name on it. You take it between your fingers, opening it, careful to not let your tears fall onto it.

Sarad’ika,

If you’re reading this then I’m afraid things aren’t going all that well for me. There are plenty of possible reasons as to why I’m no longer with you, but what’s important is that I plan on doing everything in my power to get back to you. There is only one thing in the galaxy that could keep me from your side, and if that is my fate then this box will ensure you’re taken care of.

The most important thing is for you to get off this planet. I have included a few possible plans for you, do what you have to to survive. Elaine will help you escape.

You can seek out Greef Karga on Nevarro. Tell him Din Djarin sent you, tell him what’s happened and he will see to it that you are cared for. Explain our circumstances and I am certain he will provide you with safe lodging.

Tatooine is also an option. You’ll find a Mandalorian there by the name of Boba Fett, he will not turn you away. You will be protected there, if you need to relocate for some reason after that he will help you locate the Mandalorian convert. Show the Mandalorians your ring and you will be cared for the rest of your life, the convert will protect you.

As an absolute last resort there is a planet located in the Outer Ring called Ossus. There is a school there, taught by a man named Luke Skywalker. I doubt he would be eager to take you in but you must insist. Bring the chainmail, they’ll know who sent you. Take care of each other.

In this box you will find enough credits to get you off planet and take care of you for several months, a year if you’re frugal, I suggest you take a few jewelry pieces to pawn off for extra credits as well. You will find a small chainmail shirt, and a necklace of mine.

And lastly you will find your vibroblade.

Protect yourself. You’re strong, and more than capable of doing so.

I have one request for you, please, I will only ask this one thing of you.

Be smart.

You are the smartest and kindest person I have ever had the honor of knowing. Be smart, take care of yourself. If the roles were reversed I know that I would go to extremes to either get you back, or find justice for you. And all I can do is ask that you do not attempt any such thing, the only thing I would ever want for you is safety and happiness.

So seek those things out.

Be safe. Be happy.

I was lucky to know you, and even luckier to be yours.

an ner kar'taylir darasuum,

Din

All my love.

You flip the paper over, desperate for more, more Din, but all you find is scrawled coordinates to each location. Your fingers sift through the items, everything he promised is found inside but you latch onto the blade. Laying back down on the floor you clutch it between your fingers as you think of Din.

Din, who was yours.

Din, who they took from you.

Who Kodo, took from you.

And your grip on the knife tightens.

☆

Two guards stand outside your door round the clock now.

They never follow you or come into your room but they’re there, silently watching as you direct all your anger at your new staff. As promised Leo trained them to be as persistent and infuriating as he was.

When the two new girls come to fetch you in the morning you can’t help it when you scream at them to leave you alone and to stop trying to clean the ever growing mess of things.

It doesn’t matter that it isn’t their fault, you can’t stand the sight of anyone.

All three of them try. New Elaine and Lysa show up three times a day, trying to dress you and squeeze their way past you into the room but after enough shrieking they always leave you be.

New Leo usually tries once or twice a day, you don’t even look at him. You always stare at the floor, when he tries to speak you give him the same treatment as the girls, screaming at him and slamming the door.

Why should you let them in? You know what they are. They’re here to spy on you, to be Kodo’s eyes while he’s busy being king. They’re easy to evade. When you leave to fetch yourself food or a book from the library you easily outrun them. The two girls are worse at navigating the castle than you were when you first arrived and new Leo has a bad leg, sometimes he’ll make attempts to limp after you but they’re always unsuccessful.

You think of nothing, day after day because there is nothing to think about.

Except for the fact that Kodo took your future away from you. He took everything from you.

If you thought time was blending before Din’s death nothing could have prepared you for now. You don’t track the days as well, you keep your curtains drawn and only leave when you get hungry or start to think of Din. The last thing you need to do is have another screaming fit so you keep him locked away in your heart, an ache that’s always there that you don’t address.

One day, in a fit of tears you took your knife and decided on a whim to kill Kodo. You didn’t care about the repercussions at that point you just wanted him to suffer but the moment you opened the door you nearly tripped, stumbling backwards the guards didn’t so much as glance at you.

Another vase of flowers.

You’re tempted to just kick them down the hall but you can’t help yourself when you lean down to pick them up.

A bouquet of blue lilies. Your nose twitches at the sight of them, out of the corner of your eye you see new Lysa and new Elaine approaching so you take the opportunity to slam the little glass vase into the stone floor. Glaring at them when you do before returning to your room.

☆

Maybe it’s been three days since Din died.

Maybe it’s been three months.

You aren’t sure.

You aren’t sure when you made plans to kill Kodo either but suddenly you have them. A fool proof way to get him alone.

And suddenly you’re dressed for the first time in, well, however long it’s been. In a baby blue nightie with a robe you march out into the hall. The guards watch in silence as you walk away, your bare feet scampering down the stairs until you find yourself watching the main entrance. Waiting for your loving husband to make his nightly trip to a pleasure house, a trip that is typically accompanied by guards.

You grip the handle of the knife in your pocket as you wait until you finally hear footsteps approaching.

“Kodo, honey?” You step out from behind the stone column, holding your robe closed as you bat your eyelashes at him. He stumbles around drunkenly until his eyes focus on you.

You’ve only used your voice for screaming for so long you sound meek, exactly as you want to right now.

“Wife?”

“I thought maybe you’d like to join me tonight…” You hold a hand out towards him, putting on a sickly sweet tone of innocence. His mouth twists into a grin.

“I knew you’d come around eventually.”

He doesn’t question where you’re taking him, he simply follows.

What a joke.

You pull him up the stairs, you know from hide and seek where to find an empty room so you guide him there in calculated silence until he trips a bit, laughing to himself as he stutters.

“I knew if I got rid of the Mandalorian you’d realize how much better I am than him.” The statement doesn’t sit right with you and he can see it on your face, even in his drunken state he can sense your confusion.

You both stop, you’re above him on the stairs as you turn and stare into his eyes.

“You- you knew?”

He simply nods, that sickening smile of his is plastered on his face. His icy blue eyes shimmer with delight.

“How long?”

“When Leo told me I remembered everything. That little altercation in the hall when your boy knocked me out came right back to me, from there it wasn’t hard to figure out.” Your eye twitches as he speaks.

He knew you loved him and he took him from you anyway.

Any hesitations you had are gone as you nod, pulling him onward until you reach the large vacant tower room. He’s so drunk you decide to just drop the voice, pointing at a spot on the floor.

“Lay down.” You mumble, reaching into your pocket once more.

He eagerly does as he’s told, laying down on the cold stone, you take a deep breath, in one swift motion you grab your knife, holding it behind your back as you toss your robe aside. He gives you a toothy grin as you ever so slowly walk to him, standing above him before sitting, straddling his waist.

You look him up and down, one last time.

Your loving husband.

One of his hands plays with the blue lace of your nightie as you collect yourself. You look up at the ceiling briefly.

I’m sorry.

Not for Kodo, but for Din. This is exactly what he didn’t want you to do.

You aren’t a killer. And you aren’t hateful, but a person can only be pushed so far before something breaks.

Be smart.

You think of Din’s note one last time before you bring the blade out in front of you and slam the blade into Kodo’s chest.

He makes a sickly wet sound, coughing as he stares at you in shock.

You remove the knife, the hot steel cauterizes his wounds, there isn’t so much as a drop of blood as your face twists with fury and you bring it down again into his stomach now.

How dare he look surprised by any of this.

After what he took from you? He deserves galaxies worse.

So you remove the knife.

And you stab him again.

And again,

and again,

and again.

Until there is no more shocked look on his face. You don’t have a snarky remark or a statement to commemorate your revenge, you’re all used up at this point, all you have is this, this stabbing motion.

He didn’t even have a chance to fight back.

You crawl off of his body, sitting on the stones as you toss the knife to the side, waiting for a rush of euphoria.

But it never comes.

It doesn’t feel as good as you thought it would.

Staring down at Kodo’s lifeless body. You let yourself crumble. Collapsing down onto the floor, gasping for air as you sob.

This was never going to bring him back.

You lay there on your hands and knees for quite some time, just wailing, because what else are you supposed to do right now? You realize far too late that this was never an act of malice, some demented and shattered part of you thought that this would somehow bring him back, that it would give you peace.

They won’t execute you.

You planned this exactly so they wouldn’t.

Kodo didn’t tell anyone about your relationship with Din in much detail, not enough for them to assume that you could be with child. Everyone will assume that it’s Kodo’s. They won’t kill you, they can’t.

Not if they think you’re carrying Kodo’s child. Now that Kodo’s dead, there’s no one to tell the royal family that you never consummated your marriage, your child is the most well protected person on the planet. The future monarch. It’s almost funny, you haven’t permitted yourself to think about the stirring within you as a child until just now, in this moment of weakness. A child, your child.

Who will most likely grow up without a mother because of the decisions you've made today.

You bite your fist, swallowing a scream as you sit back on your heels.

Your child will never know how loved they were. Your little one will never get to sit beside their mother while their father teaches them to sew. You put your head in your hands as you wail, no longer caring who hears. Your fate is sealed, what does it matter?

You don’t turn when you hear someone coming up the stairs. When they pull you into their arms you try uselessly to shove them away. Your vision is blurry and filled with tears as you stare up at the unfamiliar figure now holding you. They rub your back, drawing swirls and stars against your spine as they pull you closer.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” They mumble into your hair. You dry your eyes hastily on your sleeve, confused by the voice you’re hearing, it’s painfully familiar, on instinct you wrap your arms around their torso, pulling yourself into their lap as you both sit on the floor beside Kodo’s body. “You’re okay, I’m here.”

“I’m- I’m sorry.” You whisper against the stranger's shirt. You knew you weren’t hateful. You’re certain of it now because even though he took quite literally everything from you, you still feel bad when you look at Kodo.

A large hand cups your face, pulling you back to their chest so you can’t see the corpse anymore.

“I didn’t mean it- I- I didn’t mean to kill him. Well I did but I just-” You begin to ramble as a fresh flood of tears begin sliding down your cheeks.

“Hey- hey it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it. We gotta get you cleaned up, okay? I’ll take care of this, I’ll fix it.” Their arms tighten around you, giving you a reassuring squeeze. You finally find the courage to look at your companion and it takes a moment for you to even realize who you’re looking at.

New Leo.

Why would he help you? You treat him like shit. When you look at him he looks like he’s about to cry and for the first time since Din was taken from you drop the walls you’ve put up and you let yourself feel bad for him. You show an ounce of kindness to him because in all honesty he’s the first person to make you feel safe since the night Din was taken from you.

A lighthouse while you sail through a storm.

So you hug him.

You pull yourself closer to him and you offer him a comfort you haven’t known for days.

“I’m sorry… for all of it, but especially the flowers, I should have told you, I just- you wouldn’t let me and the guards wouldn’t let me in without your permission and you just wouldn’t look at me.” He begins to mumble his own apologies, sending a surge of confusion through you.

You furrow your brows, pulling back once more giving him a perplexed look as you search his nearly black eyes for some kind of answer.

And it clicks.

All at once it snaps into place and you want to say his name, so desperately, but you’re terribly afraid of being wrong.

And then he smiles. A soft smile that makes you feel okay and you don’t even care if you’re wrong and you don’t care if it doesn’t make sense you just have to ask.

“Din?”

☆

a/n : yeah so uhhhhh yeah uhhhh this is the first chapter i've ever written where im actually very fond of the writing and nervous about the plot stuff so im gonna go hide?? and just vanish for a while lol

I don't have a tag list anymore !! follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates!!

#lincolndjarin #the mandalorian #best kept secret #bks #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #mandalorian smut #din djarin smut #pedro pascal #din djarin/reader #din djarin/you

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skyeet-the-writer · 1 year ago

Text

The One With the Girl from Canada

while im cleaning out my drafts, here's something from a few months ago. i really like this and i've written and are currently writing some more little chapters, so be on the lookout for them!! this is also posted on my ao3 if you want to go read it there too :) chandler bing x female!reader summary: new york city is a big place for a girl who lived in canada her entire life, but you manage. one afternoon, while getting some work done in a cozy coffee shop, a very handsome brunette asks to sit beside you. who are you to tell him no? word count: ~2.3k warnings: none i don't think lmao that never happens next>

Central Perk is a special spot for Chandler Bing. That's where he talks with his friends, it's where they all relax, it's where he met Rachel just a couple of months ago, coming in wearing a wedding dress and looking highly frazzled. It's got a nice, calming atmosphere, pretty good coffee, and the absolute best spot in all of Manhattan.

The area with the couch is where he and his friends always sit. Sometimes he feels bad for taking it, but nobody seems to mind, ever. And so he always sits there, usually on the couch when it is available.

When he walked into Central Perk one afternoon after work, he just wanted to grab a coffee and wait for the rest of his friends to show up eventually. He didn't expect there to be anyone there, no one ever was at this time on a Thursday.

But then he saw someone sitting in his spot.

Normally, he would have been upset, probably ask them to leave, nicely, of course, and pray to God that they left because he hates confrontation.

However, the person sitting in his spot was probably the most beautiful person he had ever seen. She looked like she had been there for a few hours, at least, because there was an empty plate with crumbs on it and a large mug drained, both sitting on the coffee table her feet were propped up on.

For a moment, Chandler stood at the counter and stared at her like some kind of creep. He had never seen her around and he knew he'd remember if he did. She wore gray jeans rolled up at the ankles to show off her colorful socks underneath a pair of black and white Converses. As his eyes traveled up her frame, he saw her wearing some kind of band tee and a tiny, silver necklace around her neck. She seemed to be writing something and, from what Chandler could tell, she seemed to be deep into thought. Her pencil scratched across the notebook and every so often, she would pause and read over it before promptly erasing something and writing once more.

He heard his name being said and turned around to see Guther holding out a coffee cup to him.

"Oh, thanks, Gunther," he told the worker, taking the coffee from him.

Chandler had never been good at talking to girls and more often than not chickened out on the opportunity to do so. But he didn't want to chicken out on talking to you.

And so, with confidence, he walked over to the area he always sat at and stood just beside the couch, next to your arm that was leaning on the armrest.

Before now, he didn't notice the headphones around your ears and the Walkman that sat beside you, but when he clears his throat and you don't react, he understands why. And so, again and a little bit louder, he clears his throat, gently tapping on your shoulder.

Your eyes tear away from the page in your lap at the touch of another person and you whip your head up to see a man standing beside you, looking at you with a smile. Perhaps too loudly, you exclaim, "Oh, shit, sorry!" and hastily pause your music and let the headphones rest around your neck. You blink up at the man and ask, "Yes?"

"I, uh." Chandler swallows thickly because even your voice is one from a dream. "You're, uh, kind of in my spot."

With a mischievous smile, you turn around in your seat like you're looking for something. "Oh, word? I don't see your name on it."

And then you smile at him snarkily and Chandler forgets how to breathe. But then he laughs, a bit awkwardly. Your sarcastic grin fades into a true one and you add, "Don't worry, I'll move."

When you start to gather your things, Chandler is quick to put a stop to it. He doesn't want you to move, not now, not ever. Not when he's just started to talk to you. "No, no, you're fine, I'm just kidding."

You stop your movements and look up at him. "Oh, alright. You can sit next to me, though."

Chandler doesn't have to be told twice. He sits beside you on the opposite side of the couch and takes a drink of his coffee like that will do anything to cure his jitters.

"What's your name?" you ask him, setting your notebook in your lap for just a moment. You wonder if he wants to have a conversation, but not many people in New York do.

He answers, "Chandler."

"Nice to meet you, Chandler. I'm y/n."

God, even your name sounds like something from a song.

"It's nice to meet you, too, y/n." He takes notice of the notebook in your lap and feels the urge to ask, "Mind if I ask what you're writing?"

With another grin, you say, "What if I did?"

Chandler can only wonder if your smile is contagious because he feels his lips curl upwards. "I mean, I'd still ask. I'm nosey."

You laugh and tilt your notebook for him to read. "It's a screenplay I'm writing."

Chandler's eyes widen. "You're a screenwriter? What, you make movies and stuff?"

"I wish." You scoff and feel a slight heat rise to your cheeks. "No, I write stories for movies and stuff. At least, I try."

"Is it not going so well?"

You shrug. "I don't know. Some studio called me up a few months ago, said they liked the idea I submitted and gave me a few months to come up with a first draft. And I've got two more weeks to finish it, so we'll see."

"I'm sure it's great," Chandler says and he means it. He can't write for shit, but something about you seems so...creative and special. "Even if I just met you."

You laugh again and close the notebook, stashing it away in the tote bag that rests on the floor. "Thanks, really."

"Of course." When you turn your body to face him, he sees what band is on your shirt and, even though he knows who it is, he asks, "What band is that?"

When he points to your chest, you look down and answer, "Oh, Nirvana."

"Oh, my God, I love them!"

"Really?" Your face breaks into a grin and you lean forwards a little. "What's your favorite song."

"'Heart-Shaped Box'," he says.

"Oh, that's good. I like 'Come As You Are'."

Soon, the conversation seems to flow quite naturally between the pair of you. He tells you about his boring job, something with a bunch of numbers and nothing exciting. You both compare bands and he realizes you're much more into rock and alternative works, but he guessed that the second he saw the leather jacket that rests beside you.

Joey is the first to arrive. Chandler glances up at the door when he hears the bell above it jingle and sees his roommate falter at the sight of you. You're not looking, rummaging through your tote bag for something and Chandler's eyes widen at the sight of the other person. If Joey flirts with you, Chandler will kill him.

Joey, clearly not catching on to Chandler's look from across the cafe, sees you and smirks, walking over.

"Hey, Chandler," he greets but doesn't look at his friend, eyes settling on you. "Who's, uh, your friend?"

You turn up at the sound of another person and spot the Italian-American smiling at you. You smile back and say, "I'm y/n."

"How you doin'?" Joey smirks and sits himself down on the high stool beside you. "I'm Joey."

"Hi, Joey," you reply, glancing at Chandler who quickly wipes the glare from his face and smiles at you. "You guys know each other?"

"We're roommates," he answers, motioning at his friend who is still staring at you.

You blink and shift in your seat. "Oh."

"I like your shirt," Joey says.

"You like Nirvana, too?" Your face brightens and Chandler almost melts.

But then his roommate says, "Who?"

And that look on your face is gone. Your smile falls and you look away back into your tote, mumbling, "Never mind."

Chandler meets his friend's eyes and shakes his head twice, brows furrowed. Joey always gets the girl. Chandler deserves to hope, at least.

You pull out a packet of gum and open it. You take a piece out and unwrap it before offering one to Chandler. He smiles and takes it, popping it in his mouth and shoving the wrapper in his pocket.

"Want some gum?" you ask the other man with darker and messier hair.

He takes one and thanks you. You return it with a grin and put the gum back in your tote, on top of your notebook.

Joey says your name and you look at him. "So, you live around here?"

You nod. "Yeah, I live in Hell's Kitchen."

"Oh, cool, cool. How long have you lived here? You grew up in New York?"

Immediately, you shake your head. "Oh, no, no, I didn't grow up here."

"Where'd you grow up?" Chandler asks, tilting his head

"Winnipeg," you answer, biting back a smile.

Chandler's brows furrow and Joey asks, "Where's that?"

"Manitoba." Your straight cracks a bit and you try to fight the smile that wants to paint itself across your lips.

Joey looks lost and asks again, "...Where's that?"

"Canada," you tell him, fully grinning now.

Joey gasps and Chandler tries not to roll his eyes. He figured it out when you said Manitoba. He says, "You're from Canada?"

You nod, turning your head to look at him. "Yep."

"Do you speak French?" Joey asks, touching your arm, clearly already friendly with you.

Turning to him, you answer, "Non."

Chandler laughs and you giggle, crossing one leg over the other.

"I speak Italian," Joey says.

You raise a brow. "Yeah?"

He nods and leans forward in his chair, smirking. "Sei bellissima."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you're beautiful," he answers, voice a little lower than it was before.

Some heat rushes up your neck and you look away at your lap. "Oh."

Chandler glares at his friend, but Joey doesn't catch it.

Thankfully, before Chandler reaches over you to choke Joey, the bell dings and he glances at the door. Monica, Ross, Phoebe, and Rachel are walking in and while the rest of his friends make their way over, Rachel immediately goes to clock in for her shift.

They walk over and greet the other two and Phoebe is the first to address you. "Oh, wow, you're pretty."

You laugh out loud, blushing even harder at the compliment from a woman, touching your necklace. "Thank you. I like your skirt."

Phoebe giggles and swishes her skirt. "Thanks."

"This is y/n," Chandler introduces you to his friends.

"Hey." You lift your hand in a wave of sorts, feeling like you're butting in on their group. You should leave, but in a minute. You don't want to be rude.

Chandler's friends introduce themselves--Ross, Monica, and Phoebe, you repeat their names in your head to remember better--and then he gestures towards the coffee bar. "And the girl over there is Rachel."

"It's nice to meet you guys," you say politely, squeezing your hands in your lap.

"You too." Monica smiles. "I love your shirt, by the way."

"Thanks." You grin, basking in all the compliments.

Ross looks at Monica and asks, "You listen to Nirvana?"

Monica fixes him with a look. "Yes, because I'm cooler than you."

You chuckle at their interaction when Joey suddenly blurts out, "Ask her where she's from!"

You giggle at the man's antics and look at the others.

Ross smiles and asks, "Alright. Where are you from?"

"Winnipeg," you reply, still smiling. Chandler thinks he's going to swoon.

Monica is the first to figure it out. "You live in Canada?"

You nod. "I mean, I used to. I moved to Hell's Kitchen a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh, my god, so you just moved here," Chandler says.

"Why did you move all the way from Canada down to here?" Ross wonders.

"I'm a screenwriter and ended up getting a job down here," you answer. "Besides, Canada is boring, so I was looking for a change of scenery."

"Well, how do you like it here so far?" Phoebe asks.

You shrug. "It's pretty nice. A little colder, somehow, but I like it. There are a lot more people and a lot more things to do and see. I lived in Winnipeg my entire life so I kind of felt like I saw everything."

"I've always wanted to go to Canada," Rachel says, coming to hand out coffee.

You smile. "It's nice. Alberta is really pretty."

Mustering up some courage, Chandler says, "Hey, if you ever need someone to show you around the city, I'll be happy to help you."

And then you look at him and grin, nodding. "That'd be sick."

He feels heat start to creep up his cheeks, and he smiles back. "Awesome."

You look at the time on the clock and say, "I've got to head out, but it was great to meet you guys."

"Yeah, you too!" Monica says.

Taking a Post-it note from your bag, you write down your number and hand it to Chandler. He takes it and tries not to stare at it too hard. "Hope to catch you guys later."

Chandler's friends wave to you and you walk out the door, shrugging your jacket on before walking off. Chandler stares at the window for several seconds after you're gone and only snaps out of it when Monica says something.

"Chandler, how the hell did you get her number?"

He shrugs, looks at the bright blue Post-it note, and reads it.

here :) (xxx-xxx-xxxx)

He smiles and puts it in his pocket, trying to ignore the looks his friends are giving him. You're very cool and very pretty and Chandler can't wait to see you again.

#x reader #chandler bing #chandler bing x reader #canadian reader #ross geller #rachel green #joey tribbiani #monica geller #phoebe buffay

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astrobiscuits · 1 year ago

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Astro observations part 8

[LONG EDITION] - taken from my phone's notes (also, i was too lazy to edit it so here's a nice chunk of info)

🍂 Sun conjunct Saturn individuals inherit mindsets from the father, grandparents or great-grandparents. They might never fully act like their Sun sign (aka "shine"), since they've been conditioned from a young age to listen to parents, teachers, and later on bosses. They are the type to never divorce, no matter how toxic their marriage is. If these peeps deal well with their Saturn Return, they might become "THE BOSS" (aka the person everyone looks up to due to how accomplished, disciplined and rich they are, they've literally got their shit together and deserve a round of applause, "it wasn't easy to get to the top, but it was worth it" - you might hear them say this). They are also more prone to ingrain stoic principles in their lifestyle

🍂 Mars square Neptune gives off major cult leader vibes. They're the type to fool you with false promises until you sign up for their "camp" but then you realize it's actually an evil cult where all they wanna do is put you to work (and maybe later even kill you lol). These individuals become very scary when angry (you don't wanna see them angry, trust me). If they ever commit suicide, it'll be by drowning, alcohol or drugs

🍂 Mars trine Neptune is one of the best aspects for those who make a living off their talents. The talent depends on the element the trine is in:

If it's in Earth signs - ideal for those who work in the "money handling sector" in advertising, becoming an entrepeneur, holistic care (if Virgo is involved), cooks, those who work in interior design, seamstresses, embroidery/lace makers, models, event planners If it's in Air signs - ideal for those who work in sales (their negotiation skills are ✨chef's kiss👌🏻✨), becoming a spiritual/religious teacher or an art/music/any other creative pursuit teacher (lmao, i can't even speak💀💀), writers, musicians, magicians and astrologers (for the last two - if Aquarius is involved) If it's in Fire signs - ideal for dancers, theater/movie actors, hairstylists, circus performers, photographers (only if Leo is involved) If it's in Water signs - ideal for make-up artists, painters, tarot readers

🍂 Moon sextile Uranus individuals have got the ability to create a positive parasocial relationship with their followers. Since these people often use their devices to validate their emotions, i wouldn't be surprised if most of y'all also have atleast one active profile where you post quite frequently

PRO TIP: Whenever Transit Jupiter is trining/conjuncting your Natal Uranus (to a less extent also the sextile), you'll get a sudden boost in your followers count

🍂 This is a theory of mine that i've come up with and i'd love to hear your thoughts on it. When it comes to intergenerational astrology, i do believe that we inherit all of our personal planets placements from our parents and ancestors. But then you might say "But i don't act like my mother at all! This is bullshit!". I'm not saying we're all carbon copies of our family members. What makes us unique and distinguishes us from our parents and grandparents (or even great-grandparents) are the way the planets aspect each other in our birth charts and the planetary configurations between them. Basically we start from the same ground, but we all use our traits differently, whether for the better or the worst expression of them. Let's not forget that we also tend to go through different life experiences than our parents and grandparents; we might be blessed with different opportunities that might enhance our best traits and help us achieve what our ancestors always wanted to but weren't able to

Hope you enjoyed today's post, loves!💗💗💗 I've been wanting to post for a while now but my inspiration has been wandering alone in the Sahara Desert I can't promise that i'll start posting again more frequently (the new uni year is starting soon for me + i enrolled in a local astrology school 2 weeks ago🥳🥳 ya girl can't wait to officially become an astrologer) but my inbox will be open again for further questions! I must also thank you for helping me hit 500 followers!!! I'm probably gonna do another ask game once i hit 600 followers, as i'm too busy right now. As always, don't forget to drink water and take care of yourselves! Hope to see you soon! ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

#astro #astro community #astro placements #astrology #astro observations #astro posts #astro notes #astrology notes #astro blog #astroblr #astrology community #astrology tumblr #sun conjunct saturn #mars square neptune #mars trine neptune #moon sextile uranus #intergenerational astrology

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fairydares · 8 months ago

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loook i get why the idea of riding the "anti/pro" fandom disk horse makes people gag a little in their mouth and try to opt out entirely, but here's why i went from feeling exactly the same way to taking a firm profiction stance. I've been meaning to make this post for a while.

~10 years ago, I posted a fic for the first time and it got its own harassment campaign. The fic wasn't even sexual, and wasn't going to be (it remains incomplete). It was accurately rated T on fanfiction.net. Anyone in the Fairy Tail fandom will understand this: I literally got harassed for writing a "Lucy leaves the guild" fic💀.

After many nice comments, someone left a pretty nasty one. Hurt, I messaged them back. They acted super attacked that I'd responded (lmao) and after we argued, threatened to "rip my shitty story apart in the comments section" if I responded again. I told them "go ahead lol."

They went ahead.

Now know that it was a relatively small harassment campaign, but at the time, it was devastating. Right around then, I wound up in the hospital. After I got out, I went to excitedly check my fic, and found several reviews saying things I wouldn't repeat to my worst enemy. I was suicide-baited more than once, told "thank fuck you finally abandoned this shitty story, dumb cunt," stuff like that.

There were several accounts involved, and I can't say for sure, but I suspect at least a couple different people were involved, though probably at least half of it was one person.

All the other comments were screeching about how I hadn't updated, mostly. "NO UPDAAATEE WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPENS TO MEEEE??!!!" was one that stood out after I'd been miserable in a hospital for an extended period of time.

Idk what people think is going on when FT fic authors write this trope, and frankly I don't give a fuck. Because while I was partly writing the story out of some young, cringe feminist rage, I also did genuinely have a real story I was compelled to tell. I was inspired by another, popular fic I loved which used the trope to talk about how trying to shoulder our burdens alone really just hurts both ourselves and everyone who cares about us.

My own story was ultimately going to have similar themes, with more focus on strength, what it means, and in what contexts earning and having it actually matters. In retrospect, no wonder I wound up in hot water, because at the time "Lucy vs. Strength vs. Misogyny" was the FT fandom's Designated Nonsensically Activist Debate™. But that's partly why i wanted to write about it; engaging with the fandom had gotten me thinking about it 🤷‍♂️

Not too long after that, FFNet oh-so-benevolently granted us the ability to delete comments from our own stories (they never took my reports seriously at all, afaik). I deleted all or most of the harassers' comments (may still be a one or two up, and i'm fairly sure there's a couple comments defending my fic from the harassment) without saving screenshots, which I really regret now. I was just so mortified and full of self-loathing about the whole thing that i wanted to forget it completely. Something that had brought me joy at a very lonely, vulnerable period of my life had turned so negative, and i couldn't even tell the people closest to me about it without being made fun of for writing anime fan fiction.

I didn't understand why this happened at the time, but--after a period of trying to forget/bid out of it all with a slight anti lean (a common approach I see people use, and one which I'm not proud of adopting)--I just had to figure out What the Fuck Even Happened There. And I'm telling you, after years of reflecting, wrestling with both sides, and educating myself, that this "status quo of harassment" culture which pervades fandom goes way deeper than you think and comes out of a way darker well than you probably realize. An astonishing amount of this is, quite literally, TERF shit and evangelical shit.

Trying to be in fandom and take a stance of, "Anti/Pro shit? Ew, I'm Not Touching that," is like swimming in a heavily polluted river and being like, "Poison? Cringe. Not me lol."

You might be lucky enough to be in a less-polluted part of the river (AKA a relatively non-toxic fandom, in which case good for you!)...but tbh this rhetoric and peer-signalling will still seep in.

I can't stress enough that pro-fiction, AKA "proship", is the normal, leftist-about-art-and-sex opinion. Pro-ship is against all the horrible things you're against; in fact, pro-ship isn't trivializing real trauma by equating it with fictional trauma, or trying to apply literal evangelical/radfem solutions--which are proven not to prevent or help. Profiction/proship is literally just saying, "Fiction is fiction, reality is reality, and the two don't have a 1:1 relationship. And historically, trying to censor just things we've decided are bad has done nothing but get LGBTQ+ and POCs censored. Therefore, depictions of illegal things shouldn't be censored." That's it. "Proshippers all ship problematic ships," is a brazen lie. Many of them share other fans' disgust for those ships, they just don't believe in censoring fic authors over it.

It is also taking a stand against harassment because--and I hope my own story has helped drive this home--as with all groups who adopt ingroup/outgroup thinking, antis are defined by their tactics, not actual stances on real, serious issues. What happened to me was absolutely a result of anti, "it's okay to 'bully out' anything I just don't like" mindset pervading fandom. In a way, this was the mindset's final form. They didn't even feel the need to cite a reason the trope was "bad" or "wrong"; it annoyed them, and they viewed their own feelings as a valid enough pathway for policing to go right ahead and do so.

In the interest of offering solutions instead of just bitching about problems, I might make a "how to know if you've bought into these types of views"-type post sometime. Also might come back to this and provide some sources/citation.

#cw harassment #tw suicide-baiting #tw hospitalization #posts i actually wrote #fairy tail #nalu #fandom #fandom meta #proship #pro fiction #anti-censorship #fandom wank #profiction

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feralferretxp · 2 months ago

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I've been meaning to introduce one of my Storybots ocs that I've had for a while but here we go. Let me introduce you to...

Melissa Malware

She's a totally normal storybot who is definitely not a shapeshifting virus who has alterative motives for taking over the computer world! :D

Melissa is inspired by the Melissa and I LOVE YOU computer viruses, influencing both her name and theme of spreading love worldwide. In an alternate universe called the LoveBug AU, she launches a campaign called "Project I LOVE YOU", encouraging StoryBots to express love in various forms, aiming to boost mental well-being and promote world peace. She also advocates for self-care, which leads people to work less and less, eventually creating a job crisis in the computer world.

However, Melissa's true intent is to infect others, causing them to slack off from work, which in turn slows down real-world computers, much like a virus. As her followers idolize her, they unknowingly spread her influence, infecting others with the same behavior.

Melissa's origins lie in a more abstract form sent into the internet by her creator. Her mission was to oversee a planted computer worm and ensure its success without interference, remaining in the shadows. However, her plan was unexpectedly derailed when a young Bang, wandering in the internet department while accompanying his father, mistook the worm for a colorful gummy and ate it.

Enraged and shocked, Melissa's task was ruined, forcing her to shift focus and watch over Bang as he grew up, tracking the effects of the worm on him. Over the years, she observed his growing forgetfulness and other changes (I'll make a future post about this and my theory in more detail) as she remained in the shadows. During this time, Melissa herself evolved. Watching storybots and their society, she became curious about life beyond her virus role. She gradually changed her appearance to resemble a storybot and secretly longed for a life where she wasn’t bound to a pre-programmed destructive endgame.

As she grew fond of the attention and adoration from those who saw her as one of them rather than a virus, Melissa tried to prolong her influence and delay her inevitable mission of ruining the computer world, torn between fulfilling her creator’s purpose and finding belonging among storybot society.

When Bang becomes an adult and the computer worm fully integrates with his programming, Melissa is devastated to discover that the worm is now inseparable from Bang, and removing it would kill it. This ruins her original plan, forcing her to adapt. Instead of separating the worm, she decides to use Bang to spread the infection.

Melissa presents herself as a sweet, humble activist and invites Bang to join her "Project I LOVE YOU," using his recognizable and beloved status in the community to help promote her cause. Behind her friendly demeanor, however, Melissa despises Bang, seeing him as a foolish and undeserving figure who, for some reason, is adored by everyone. Despite her loathing, she plays the role of a supportive ally, manipulating him into unknowingly aiding her true goal, while he remains completely oblivious to her hatred and intentions.

So in a nutshell, Bang has no enemies... except for one which is Melissa because she hates his guts LMAO. But yeah that's the LoveBug AU basically. There's more to it but that's for another time.

One important thing about Melissa is that her and Milo (@supgoddo's oc) are in true real love and are perfect for each other YIPPIEE GRRR I LOVE THEM SM

Anyways that's it for now for Melissa! Just wanted to introduce her character and stuff. Live laugh love Melissa <3

#She's a little crazy but we love her for that #she's my second top/main storybot oc i have #storybots #ask the storybots #storybots answer time #storybots oc #Melissa Malware #oc lore #oc intro #oc introduction #text post #digital art #digital drawing #digital sketch

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danganronpadedication · 2 months ago

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DAY 12: DANGANTOBER

Day 12: Remnants of Despair

AT LAST, AT LONG, LONG LAST! IT'S HAPPENING, IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING! THE EVENT ONE BILLION YEARS PROPHESIZED HAS COME TO PASS! THE DAY HAS COME! I FINALLY GET TO RANT ABOUT THE REMNANTS! Hats off to you if you know what I was referencing just now, lol.

I've said this a lot, but I really love the Remnants of Despair. They're my favorite part of the Danganronpa story, and I think they're criminally underused. There's just so much potential to explore and work with, and it's something that plagues my mind 24/7. Their designs are awesome, their psychology is interesting, and further exploring them not only paints a more detailed picture of the characters, but of the Danganronpa world as a whole. In this post, I'll be talking about EVERYTHING, from what they did, to how they look, whatever comes to mind, really.

For those of you who have forgotten the details of the Remnants, never played or watched UDG, or just never watched the episodes of the anime where we get information about them, here's a recap.

So, hopefully everyone reading this is familiar with the cast of SDR2. That group of students are the ones who go on to become the Remnants of Despair (+Hajime, even though he was just a reserve course student at the time). While they were at Hope's Peak, they rarely hung out with one another. Their teacher, Chisa Yukizome, rounded up everybody and made them start coming to class so they could form connections with each other. This class of students consisted of Teruteru, Peko, Mahiru, Ibuki, Hiyoko, Mikan, Gundham, Nekomaru, Nagito, Chiaki, Fuyuhiko, Sonia, Kazuichi, Akane, and Imposter pretending to be a character named Ryota Mitarai (who will be discussed later in this post). After a few days of knowing each other, and a certain soup-related incident that I will not ruin this post with, Chiaki is named as the class representative.

As each day passed by, the class grows closer together, and closer to people outside of class as well. Chiaki makes friends with Hajime, and Mikan finds out about the real Ryota, and about Junko and Mukuro. Junko uses Mikan as a test subject for her despair video, and it works on her. She doesn't show up to class anymore, and one day, someone spots her on campus, so everyone goes searching for her. Nagito and Chiaki stumble across a hidden passageway, where they find Junko and Izuru. Nagito is injured in the interaction, and Chisa provides a distraction for the two of them to get away.

I fear I am jealous of Nagito here lmao. Chiaki and Nagito go back to the rest of the class, who found Mikan, and they all decide to go back for Chisa. Meanwhile, Junko has already brainwashed Chisa, and her master plan is set into motion. The class walks through the secret passageway, and Mikan separates Chiaki from everyone else. Chiaki runs into Chisa, who leads her to an elevator that takes her to a dungeon-like obstacle course, full of spikes and boulders. She must escape to get back to her friends, and Chiaki actually manages to reach the end. Unfortunately, she's been tricked, and she gets impaled by multiple spikes, dying from her injuries in a scene I will never forget.

The others are shown the footage of her death, and they begin to feel despair over the traumatic loss of their friend. Taking advantage of their anguish, Junko begins to play her despair video for the class, brainwashing them into Ultimate Despairs, who are then let loose to cause chaos in the world. The next time we hear about them as an active group, it's at Makoto's hearing for disobeying the Future Foundation to help them. There, we get this picture.

Whoever designed them ate, I fear. As the Remnants of Despair, they use their ultimate talents to spread despair in unique ways, from building weapons of mass destruction, aiding other subsidiary groups of despair, to tyrannical takeovers of certain parts of the world.

Anyways, Makoto manages to rehabilitate them in SDR2, and its a happily ever after for them as reformed, wanted dead or alive war criminals <3 But, a lot of what they did, with the exception of Nagito, is left up in the air for us fans to theorize about.

Speaking of Nagito, let's talk about Servant first. Nagito basically became a single father as a Remnant. As Servant, Nagito's job is to watch over and aid the Warriors of Hope, consisting of Masaru Daimon, Jataro Kemuri, Kotoko Utsugi, Nagisa Shingetsu, and Monaca Towa. He's the only Remnant that we really get to see in action, being a pivotal character in Ultra Despair Girls.

Nagito is unique from the rest of the Remnants in many ways. He's not expressly violent like many of them are, preferring to be more manipulative in his methods. Despite his title, he pulls the strings of a lot of things that happen in UDG. When he's not making milkshakes for those tyrannical little gremlins, or being outed by Kurokuma, he's blackmailing and kidnapping members of the Future Foundation, like Toko and Byakuya respectively. He's tricking the kids, working under the guise of being subservient to them and their want to create a paradise for children, instead working with Monaca to bring about Junko's successor.

He also has a very strange relationship when it comes to Junko. While a lot of the others seem to view her as their leader, he hates her with every ounce of his being. That's the entire reason he's working to bring a form of her back after her death. The idea of her being alive once again causes him intense despair. He even says that he's jealous of Makoto, because he wanted to be the one to kill Junko himself. He despises her for turning everyone away from hope, including himself. But, he also still seems to have some kind of twisted appreciation for her as well, stating that she's the woman he loves and hates the most. After the plan to create Junko's successor falls through in UDG, he decides to raise Monaca to be Junko's successor herself, stating that because he loves and hates her so much, he can recreate her perfectly.

Nagito's also one of the three Remnants who actually scavenged from Junko's dead body, the other two being Mikan and Fuyuhiko. Nagito took Junko's arm, replacing his own with it. Looking at it causes him despair, since now she's stuck as a part of him. It's unclear what else he did, but we know he was just as, if not more, overzealous about it as he is about hope. It's his maniacal nature that manages to turn Monaca off from despair in the anime, saying that she'd rather not end up as crazy as him. For a character who was so determined to usher in a new era of despair, the fact that Nagito was too crazy even for her, speaks volumes. Don't worry, these other sections won't be as long, since there's not much info about them besides fanon.

Next up, Kazuichi Souda. The only bit of real content we get of him is a small compilation in one of the episodes, showing him working on a large Monokuma robot. This Monokuma robot was featured in the end of Ultra Despair Girls, nicknamed 'Big Bang Monokuma' by everyone's LEAST FAVORITE CHARACTER, Haiji Towa. Haiji is nasty, and if you like him, he's one of the characters I CANNOT see why you'd like him. Haiji likers, DNI.

Anyways, aside from working on Big Bang Monokuma, it can also be inferred that he would go out with weapons and either supply or fire them in crowded areas. After all, there's only one character we know of who would match the dude in the beanie.

I personally believe that Kazuichi was mainly responsible for two major things. The different Monokumas that can be found around Towa City, such as Ball and Junk Monokuma, and the executions from THH.

My biggest piece of evidence for that above claim, comes from Kazuichi's free time events, where he says that he wants to build the fastest motorcycle ever, even though he'd be too scared to ride it. Aside from being the only character in this lineup(apart from Izuru) who could feasibly make the executions, Mondo dies from a motorcycle that can go fast enough to liquify him.

Also, I think that each Remnant went against their personal life goals mentioned in the final episode of despair arc, to create maximum despair. They are asked to state what they want to do with their lives, and they say things like "solve all diseases", "create peace treaties", "increase animal welfare" etc. Kazuichi says that his personal goal is to eliminate all pollution from the atmosphere, so I think he'd be responsible for polluting the air even more, dumping oil in the seas. He is the reason the sky is red, and why Hope's Peak needs an air purifier for the participants in that game. Poor guy, when he's not simping for Sonia, he seems like an actually pretty chill person to be around, especially in those final episodes.

Speaking of Sonia's simps, next is Gundham. We see him in that compilation, surrounded by all sorts of animals. Snakes, elephants, giraffes, you name it. Though, notably, the Four Dark Devas/Twelve Zodiac Generals (all hamsters, the devas are part of the twelve), are absent from the line up.

It can be deduced that Gundham released dangerous animals from zoos and sanctuaries, letting them run amok through major cities. He managed to rally the animals together, training them to be very destructive, and ultimately uses them in battles against the Future Foundation.

Gundham doesn't have anything he sets out to do with his life, at least nothing he voices in the final episode, so maybe he wanted to create a safe place for animals to live happily, and weaponizing them would cause him despair.

To explain away the disappearance of his hamsters, I think he released them as a final act of humanity and care for them. I think he knew that he'd be mistreating all the animals he held dear, and he wanted to give the hamsters a chance to escape. ESPECIALLY if he's going to be having snakes and birds around them, that's a recipe for the hamsters to be eaten.

I feel very bad for Mikan. She was the first one that fell to Junko's influence, the first one to be rewritten in such a way. She even watches the video a second time, which means she's probably one of the most far gone.

Like Nagito, Mikan is one of the three Remnants who took a body part from Junko's corpse. She took her uterus, and replaced her own with it, in hope's of carrying on Junko's legacy. She's also the one who probably attached the arm to Nagito, and the eye to Fuyuhiko.

In the final episode, Mikan says she wants to create a miracle cure for all diseases. As such, I can see her poisoning medical supplies, much like the real-life Tylenol Murders. She would probably hurt those who are sick and weak, and quite possibly experimented on people. As a medical professional, she was probably responsible for making sure the Remnants who frequented active combat against the Future Foundation were healthy and in peak condition.

I've also seen some people say she probably worked on ways to brainwash people through chemicals, and likely used captured Future Foundation soldiers as test subjects.

Akane and Nekomaru are the fighters of the group. They go out, and their main job is to cause as much stress for the Future Foundation as humanly possible. They're both heavy hitters, and that'd definitely be a hard thing for the Future Foundation to beat.

Akane's goal for her life simply boiled down to eating her fill of food, while Nekomaru said he would support everyone's dreams. I think he may have acted as support for the other's plans, kind of freelance depending on which Remnant required his services at the time.

We know one of the Remnants starved themselves, I believe it was Akane. Food brought her joy, so to cause despair she limited herself. In the anime, she's seen with abs, but I think they were just scared of showing her ribs. It's honestly a wonder that she would be able to fight at all. She fights with everything she's got, running off of despair, spite and mania.

Fuyuhiko and Peko occupy a similar area as Akane and Nekomaru. In fact, I think Nekomaru and Akane probably partnered with or joined Fuyuhiko's group of soldiers. All four of them fight against the Future Foundation, keeping their field agents on their toes and actively fighting against any sort of helpful effort by them.

In the final episode, Fuyuhiko says that he and Peko will lead the people in the Kuzuryu Clan down the right path, since he doesn't want to keep perpetuating violence. He wants them to get good educations and lead good lives. Peko says that she'd never kill again. For Peko to be actively fighting in battles across Japan, means she's actively causing the pain she didn't want to. Peko wants to be seen as more approachable, so to be one of the main Remnants in charge of causing chaos must be awful for her. For Fuyuhiko to take a step back and use the people in his clan to cause despair, he's also violating his life goals, and his want to not be reliant on the Kuzuryu Clan. It's the same reason he wants a degree of separation between himself and Peko in SDR2. He doesn't want to be seen as weaker, and he doesn't want to use the people around him.

Imposter is definitely an enigma character. There isn't much information about them when they're not in disguise as either Byakuya or Ryota (who deserves his own post, what I have to say may be a hot take). You can infer though, that they're actually a very caring person. When they notice Ryota engaging in unhealthy behaviors, they make sure that he eats and sleeps when required, and assumes his identity to give him a break. You can also see it in-game, where the more you hang out with them, the less they act like Byakuya, and more like a kind leader figure. Personally, I call Imposter Touya, since it sounds like a combo of "Two" and "Byakuya", and people already call them Twogami. It also means ''all the more, increasingly'' like their talent.

In the final episode, they aren't in disguise as anyone, and they say that they could become anyone they want, including the president. There's a strong desire within them to become their own person, to be seen for who they are, and not as the person they're impersonating.

It's intriguing, as in Remnant form, they're dressed like Byakuya. I think that Touya assumes the identities of various important figures in society, and infiltrates certain organizations whilst doing so. Since they're currently acting as Byakuya, I think Touya has infiltrated what's left of Togami Corporation, and is working to destroy their reputation. Maybe after Byakuya joins the Future Foundation, Touya tries to make it look like he's betraying them during different missions. Maybe that's why he's never out in the field unless it's absolutely necessary.

Teruteru Hanamura. I think there's a consensus on what we all agree he did while under despair. In the final episode, he says that he will feed everyone tons of nutritious food, and end world hunger. On top of that, he's someone who values his family a lot, especially his mother and siblings.

Teruteru is implied to use drugs in his food to make it taste better. It's an already disturbing theme with the food-oriented ultimates, with Ruruka using Seiko (the Ultimate Pharmacist) to enhance her sweets. In Teruteru's free time events, he feeds Hajime a simple rice ball, and Hajime leaves that interaction feeling like he's been drugged from how drowsy he is. Teruteru also keeps drugs around his food normally, evidence being the infamous soup scene. He may have poisoned his food, or used certain drugs to manipulate people to do bad things while in a weakened state of mind.

There's also an almost mutual agreement that I've seen in the fanbase, that he possibly turned his family into food. For how much he values them, I could definitely see that happening as a possibility, and it's such a terrible thought. For the life of me, I hope that isn't the case, and that Teruteru's mom and siblings are still out there in the world, ready to reunite with him once things have cooled down.

I've lumped Sonia and Mahiru together because this is the only picture of Mahiru as a Remnant. Anyways, starting with Mahiru, I think she traveled across the world, taking pictures of all the destruction and carnage as a result of the Tragedy. She likely also blackmailed high ranking officials and celebrities, bringing them under the thumb of Ultimate Despair and granting them more power over the general population.

In her free time events, Mahiru states that her mother was a war photographer. Her mom would go to scenes of destruction, take pictures, and sell them to news outlets. Mahiru says that, while she respects her mother, she doesn't want to take pictures of war. She wants to capture people's smiles and happy scenes of people living their lives. Going around and taking those sorts of pictures amidst the worst event in human history would definitely cause Mahiru despair. That can be seen in the picture as well, taking pictures of Sonia, likely declaring war or commencing public executions in her kingdom of Novoselic.

At the end of the final episode, Sonia says that she wants to make Novoselic into a peaceful kingdom, one with no wars. Once she becomes a Remnant, she forces her people to commit mass suicide, declares war on nearby countries, and executes people in her own country, supposedly including her parents so she may have sole power. The people who do not die in her initial takeover are likely added to the Novoselic army, serving under her and for her every whim. For someone who wanted to be seen as an equal by her peers, and not treated differently for her status, I can see her feeling very upset with herself knowing that she ruled her kingdom with tyranny and terror, and made people treat her as such a higher power.

Next is the girl group duo, Ibuki and Hiyoko. I think their combined abilities probably made the other's very potent, and its an interesting team-up. They aren't shown doing anything too bad, merely putting on an evil concert.

In the final episode, Ibuki says she wants to use her music to spread happiness, while Hiyoko says she wants to use dance to spread joy.

I don't really know what they would've done to spread despair. Maybe Hiyoko hit the griddy and it made people very upset. In actuality, I believe that Hiyoko probably employed methods similar to snake charmers, and managed to work in some form of hypnosis into her performances. That would be able to turn the masses against one another, and against other people.

Ibuki, on the other hand, definitely worked subliminal messages into her music, causing people to perform certain actions or think certain things for despair. Swifties but evil. Her music was probably also engineered to cause the most discomfort, with screeching guitar riffs and loud drums. Headaches and injuries would be prevalent at their concerts. I can also see Ibuki just smashing her guitar and wielding it as a weapon if facing off against Future Foundation members.

You can even hear a sample of her music on Spotify, since in the final episode of the anime, the rehabilitated Remnants go to help the trapped Future Foundation members, and she plays a song to incapacitate the brainwashed Future Foundation members. Listen if you dare!

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It's finally time to talk about my BOY! I want to save some of my thoughts for his own post, and I honestly think this post is getting very long. For context, I started writing at 3pm, and it's now 10pm. Granted, I watched a movie and did some homework, but that's not the point here. I don't classify Izuru as a Remnant of Despair. I know he is one, but his circumstances are different. To understand Izuru, we need to start with Hajime.

Hajime starts the series as a reserve course student, someone with no talent, yet he idolizes Hope's Peak. He wants to be an ultimate so badly, that he'd do almost anything to do so. He has a bad habit of comparing himself to other people around him, basing his self-worth against theirs. So, in a school full of exceptional people, he's at an all time low. He has no friends, and feels like his goal is out of his reach. For as much as he wants to be an ultimate, we never get an idea of what he wants his ultimate to be. He has no plans for what it is, all he knows is he wants one. To feel important. To feel special. Because he doesn't see himself as anyone of worth.

He is approached by a group called the Steering Committee, which Tengan is loosely involved with. They propose the Kamukura Project to him, which is meant to give him a talent. He obviously really like this idea, but the idea of getting a talent artificially rubs him the wrong way. It's unknown if his parents know what's been proposed to him. One day, thinking by the fountain, he meets Chiaki, and they quickly become friends, bonding over video games. After that, they meet up regularly to game and talk by the fountain. One day, Fuyuhiko's little sister, Natsumi, ends up in his class, and he briefly meets her. Towards the end of the day, he finds her crying by herself, saying that she wants to be seen as the Ultimate Little Sister because Fuyuhiko only deserves the best in his life. Hajime starts to apply this to his friendship with Chiaki, believing he's not worthy of being her friend.

Still, he tries to keep his chin up and not let it bother him. He's hard-headed and hasn't been broken down yet. That's shattered when he tries to go to the ultimates course building for an important question (WATCH THE ANIME) and he gets beat up by Juzo. That very day, he meets with Chiaki, tells her to make tons of memories and have lots of fun for him, and then on, they never see each other again.

He accepts the Kamukura Project, and they begin at once. In the anime, it's done as a very quick procedure, but in real life, it'd be months and months of surgeries, mental conditioning, and medical tests. Soon, Hajime is completely erased from his mind, and is replaced by a figurative blank slate they name Izuru Kamukura. Interestingly, they call him Izuru Kamukura 1.0, implying there were supposed to be more after him. He was essentially a beta test, one that likely wasn't meant to make it this far. They likely expected him to die from the experimental procedures.

He is left on his own for days on end, until eventually Junko finds out about him. Her and Mukuro go to his little room, and try to get him to join despair. He initially declines, not seeing the purpose behind doing so. They invite him to the student council killing game, and there he feels some semblance of an emotion, so he continues. He is there, lurking in the background for many subsequent scenes.

The scene that is most important is Chiaki's death. She dies slowly in that scene, and Izuru is there, watching her. She recognizes him, reaching out towards him because he was her friend. At her death, he finds himself actually feeling something.

He's crying. Something he didn't think was possible. It is unknown if Hajime's repressed pain and despair was so powerful that it was finally felt in this moment, or if Izuru was just intrigued and confused by the idea of someone using their last moments to reach out to him. Nevertheless, he sticks with Junko's plans for despair, and is the reason she even ends up in SDR2. He's still effected by Chiaki's death long after this scene, expressing what can be confused for anger at the end of UDG when Junko starts to mock the way she'd greet him. He rips the wiring out of Shirokuma and Kurokuma's heads, taking only what he needs for the plan.

Izuru wasn't brainwashed, at least, not by Junko. The Kamukura Project deserves it's own post, but here's the rundown. He is supposed to be the Ultimate Everything, in peak physical and mental form. The surgeries needed to give him the strength capacity for the athletic ultimates would've involved breaking every bone in his body and rebuilding him from there, strengthening him enough to be able to launch Mukuro across the room with a flick of his hand. He would be injected with a cocktail of chemicals, made to increase mental abilities like memory, and possibly growth hormones for certain aspects of his body. That would explain why his hair is so incredibly long and dark, and why his eyes are red.

On the mental front, yes, he'd undergo numerous brain surgeries. Likely around the hippocampus and amygdala, they'd sever connections related to his original identity, which would also damage his ability to feel. Your emotional receptors are in those areas, and maybe ruining those sections were by design. After all, Hope's Peak is shady, and maybe they were trying to create some kind of unfeeling superweapon. Theory for another day. They left him near emotionless, with all the logical processing needed to complete any task needed, like a robot. They left him purposeless, craving entertainment of any kind. This makes him easier to use, easier to employ as a tool. If he is lacking purpose, he'd do anything you ask in order to feel anything other than emptiness. This is something Junko appeals to, since despair would be unpredictable and exciting for him.

I think he grows bored quickly, since after a while, anarchy becomes its own kind of order. There is still humanity in Izuru, he holds onto Chiaki's hairpin, and when Makoto finds him, he's nurturing a flower.

This scene is part of the reason why Makoto believes the Remnants are able to be saved. An unfeeling, despair-ridden monster wouldn't take the time to be so kind to something as small as a flower.

This scene is so moving when you watch it.

I think as a "Remnant", Izuru was merely an observer. I don't think he did anything except watch, only intervening when he felt it'd provide him some entertainment. Once he got bored, and only had Junko's USB stick plan, he'd probably find some way to make it easier for Makoto get everyone together, if only to enact that plan for that final bit of entertainment.

Is it obvious that I love Izuru?

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Original Creator: Jayce Jole on YouTube

I spent a while learning psychology, and it's always been a big interest for me. Like with the factors pertaining to Izuru, the Remnants also have unique traits that explain why they act the way they act.

They were brainwashed by the subliminal messages that Ryota and Junko had placed in the video, that's why they're so deep in despair. But what is brainwashing? Brainwashing is a form of mental conditioning, that can essentially reprogram the mind to adopt radically different beliefs, ideas, and morals to the ones already carried by the victim. Brainwashing is not mind control, but it's conditioning.

They had their morals completely rewritten to align with Junko and despair. That's part of the reason I think Nagito is as different as he is. I think hope was such an engrained value within him, that he still holds onto despite his despair. The mental reprogramming is in constant conflict with his closely held beliefs.

There are many real examples of brainwashing, most notably within cults and real-life criminal organizations. They take advantage of vulnerable people, and make them change everything about themselves to align with these new ideas. Junko took advantage of their grief over seeing Chiaki die so gruesomely, and changed them fundamentally. They are not inherently evil people, they were not mind controlled into being evil people. They are people who were taken advantage of and conditioned into going against who they were. It's so saddening, they're teenagers, teenagers who should be going into job fields and colleges and living their lives, instead of terrorizing the world. Grief is a powerful, yet human emotion, and it's one that was easily controlled and manipulated by Junko. That's why Makoto took a chance on them as well. He didn't see the terrible people they had been turned into, he saw the hurt, grieving people underneath and wanted to help them.

It's also sickening how Junko only did all this so the Tragedy would carry on while she was masterminding the Hope's Peak killing game. The Remnants are nothing more than a backup plan to her, people she views as "not useful". They only exist to keep spreading despair while she is away, and that's sickening. She brainwashed them and not her own class, BECAUSE she doesn't value the Remnants. She cared about her classmates, so she wanted to feel the despair of watching them suffer. She merely saw the Remnants as tools, ruined their lives just for her own benefit.

I think there could have been an entire anime arc about them. Show Makoto, or Ryota, or some other character trying to rehabilitate them. How did they manage to track them down, and bring them to Jabberwock Island without dying or being discovered by the Future Foundation? How did they manage to stabilize them enough mentally to enter the Neo World Program? How did Izuru manage to get that USB stick past whoever was helping them? What were they like after waking up from the NWP with all their progress erased? If the survivors were normal, how did they handle seeing their friends in such a state? What impact did they do to the world? They could provide a clearer image of the Tragedy itself, which isn't really explored past Towa City, and even Towa City has only just recently been affected by the Tragedy. I think there's so much to explore, and so little attention actually given to them.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE SEND ME YOUR ART, YOUR HEADCANONS, YOUR FICS, YOUR CONFESSIONS, YOUR PSYCHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS OF THE REMNANTS! I WILL EAT THEM UP LIKE I AM STARVED! I WILL SUP FROM THE WELL OF FANON AS IF IT IS THE FIRST DRINK OF WATER I'VE HAD IN DECADES! I NEED TO CONSUME EVERY BIT OF MEDIA ABOUT THEM!

I'm so normal, I'm so normal, I'm so normal, I'm so normal-

Anyways, after Dangantober is over, I may introduce my Danganronpa OC to this blog (not as a roleplay thing, but just to yap about him). Mainly, he's a former classmate of theirs, and he's part of their rehabilitation process because I NEED to chew on it like I'm teething.

Here is an edit I made of Chisa Yukizome, and the Remnants (it's short, it was my first one), to a Miss Delight edit audio. Please enjoy it, I was so proud when I finished it <3

Is it obvious now just how much I love the Remnants? They NEEDED more screentime, I'm not kidding on that front. Imagine everything that could've been explored, how much of their actions was the brainwashing, and how much was them acting out in twisted grief?

What did each person do while under despair? Was any guilt felt? How did they react after being rehabilitated? How are they living now with the knowledge of what they've done?

They were just grieving kids, kids who were taken advantage of and used for evil purposes. But I also agree that the Remnants are not blameless in their actions. They must live with this guilt forever, constantly on the run for what they've done, and yet, they have each other.

When I found out that UDG was SUPPOSED to be about facing the Remnants of Despair as either Makoto or Komaru, before it was changed to be the WOH, I was UPSET! Someone, PLEASE MAKE THAT A REAL GAME, I'D PAY YOU EVERYTHING IN MY WALLET AND BANK ACCOUNTS!

Make merch of the Remnants, all of them, not just the Servant pop-up parade and Izuru plushie.

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johnnieguilbertsgirlfriend · 3 months ago

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hii can you do hamzah meeting u for the first time after long distance and u guys do some stuff ifyk

YES sorry been so long since the last post but here's a new one and sorry i had to include the car pic! sorry for my computer readers bc the song tag is huge lmao and if u dont want fluff/story then skip to the smut!

NIGHTS LIKE THIS - hamzahthefantastic x reader

CONTAINS: fluff, smut, virgin reader, slightly experienced hamzah (even though ik he's never laid pipe) p in v, praising, fingering, creampie, more idk

WC: 1.5k

story below the cut

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you had met hamzah online a while ago when he slid up on your instagram story, and the two of you were best friends ever since. he told you about everything; his youtube channel, vacations, plans for the day, and you shared your life too. you loved having someone to listen to all the little parts of your day, even if it was boring. he would facetime you while doing the most random things too, and it was fun. but you both decided you wanted more than that.

after months of repeatedly calling and texting, you decided your long conversations would be better with eachother present. and now, the day finally arrived for you to meet hamzah in person. you agreed to meet at the airport, since it was easier, and cheaper, for him to take you in his car. walking through the terminal with a suitcase in hand, you headed towards the parking lot. a mixture of excitement and anticipation bubbled within you. your heart was racing as you headed towards where he told you he was parked. approaching the car, you saw someone waiting outside of it.

it was him, with his familiar smile and curly brown hair. “hey y/n!”, he calls out, walking towards you to presumably take your luggage. you stop to look up at him, smiling. “hi hamzah!”, you say, hugging the boy you had been waiting so long to see.

“wow this feels so surreal”

“yeah, i can’t believe you’re here right now”

taking in his cologne, you step back leaving room for the two of you to walk side by side to his car. he opens the passenger side door for you, then opening his trunk to stuff your stuff inside. as he climbs in the car and shuts the door, you do the same.

“i was thinking since you’ve already been traveling that we can just head to my place and order doordash?”

“yeah for sure, that sounds good”

as he started to drive, you guys caught up. the ride wasn’t awkward because you guys had already spent so much time talking to each other that it was normal now. however, you couldn’t stop thinking about your relationship with him. you never wanted to fully admit this, but the more time you chatted with hamzah the more your feelings grew stronger for him. and every single time you would just push that aside, because you didn’t want anything to be different between the two of you.

but still, the way he brushed his hands through his hair, ruffling and messing around with it occasionally. and the way his eyes were focused on the road, occasionally biting his lips.

“are you okay?”

he said, effectively snapping you out of it.

“yeah, i’m fine”

hamzah places a hand on your thigh, keeping the other on the wheel. you stop thinking and automatically place your hand on top of his. the car stayed silent until around 10 minutes later, where he pulls into the street where his apartment is.

“alright we’re here.”

he pulls his hand away from your leg to shut off the car. you look at him awkwardly, feeling some tension in the car.

“sorry about that i didn’t mean for it to be weird. just forget i did that.”

you laugh to fill the silence. he stares at you, taking a glance at your lips and proceeding to hold your jaw, pulling you into a kiss. it was soft, but romantic, like he'd been wanting to do that for ages. you were unsure of yourself, until he reassured you, moving his hand to the nape of your neck. he stops to speak,

"you don't know how long i've been waiting to kiss you, y/n."

"is this a good time to say that i like you more than a bestfriend?"

*SMUT*

he pulls your body as close as he can to his, over the console of the car. hamzah kisses you, more passionately this time. his tongue slides into your mouth, skimming over your teeth. you moan as he gets more assertive with his actions, moving your hair from your neck. he places small kisses on your jawline and your collarbone, before starting to lift up your shirt. your hands snap to reach his,

"wait, um, i've never done this before"

"wait you're a virgin? you never told me that"

you look to the side, embarrassed and hamzah can tell.

"don't worry baby. i'll teach you, c'mere"

he says, climbing into the backseat. you follow him, now knee to knee.

"can i?"

"mhm"

he asks for your permission to lift your shirt, revealing your light blue bra. you knew the universe told you to wear a cute one today. he takes his hoodie off as well, showing his defined body, probably from going to the gym. his hands reach around to your back, unclipping your bra. you try to cover yourself, feeling self conscious.

"you're so beautiful y/n"

he moves your hands, going to cup your breasts, kissing each one. your fingers play with his curls, moaning in pleasure while he sucks your boobs.

"so, so beautiful"

he starts to lay you down across the seats, climbing on top of you and trailing wet kisses down to your core. he looks at you for consent, before sliding down your shorts, leaving you in a thong. he takes off his jeans, leaving him in his boxers briefs. he kisses you once on your forehead,

"i'm gonna make you feel so good"

he touches your throbbing core through your already wet panties. he teases you for a bit before taking off his underwear and sliding yours to the side. he slowly inserts himself into you, making you moan,

"fuck, you're so tight"

"h- hamzah"

"tell me if it hurts okay?"

he actually cared about not wanting to hurt you, and you nodded to let him keep going. he starts off slow before picking up some pace. you bite your lip while he sucks on your neck, biting a little.

"you're doing great y/n"

is all he can manage to get out before groaning. his right hand grips your thigh, pulling you deeper into him.

"holy shit, right there"

you groan, overstimulated from everything that was happening. hamzah keeps thrusting right where you told him, hitting your g spot everytime. all that could be heard in the car were breathy moans from both of you and occasional curses,

"i'm close-"

"just hold on baby"

you try to hold in the knot feeling forming in your lower stomach. he takes his other hand, fingering your clit. you let the feeling unwind and cum on him, moaning and shuddering. after a few more thrusts he does too, throwing his head back and groaning. he takes his dick out and shoves a finger in your pussy to hold his cum in. after a minute, he starts to speak,

"i don't know if this is bad timing but you're the best thing that's happened to me. i like talking to you everyday and just love you. y/n, will you be my girlfriend?"

"i love you so much, and of course i will."

he holds you close, kissing your lips sweetly. putting his pants back on, he goes into his apartment to find a towel to clean you up.

────୨ৎ────

another hamzah fic for my hamzah lovers <3 leave some more requests and i will do them! thanks for supporting my page :)

#hamzahsmut #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzah imagines #hamzah x reader #hamzah x y/n #hamzahthefantastic #hamzah x reader smut #hamzah x reader fluff #hamzahfluff #martin and hamzah

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monochromer0se · 1 month ago

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It's been 2 years

I did not forget about this blog ngl. I just straight up didn't feel like posting art on 4 separate social media platforms back then LMAO. Anyways, I've been into bungo stray dogs for a while now so I gift thee, Yosano. I'll also post other stuff that I made throghout the months that I've been drawin' yeeee

#digital art #illustration #yosano akiko #bsd #bsd yosano #bungou stray dogs #digital illustration #bsd fanart #fanart #anime #armed detective agency #artists on tumblr

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proverbsss · 1 year ago

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reading you right (father paul hill/john pruitt x reader) -nsfw

Father Paul Hill, Midnight Mass

prompt(s): "Me. You. Bed. Now." [from this post]

[Pt. 2 Out Now!! Linked Here :)]

anon: I had a normal amount of fun writing this, hope you enjoy :) i wanna do a pt. 2 because ofc i do,, honestly I got a lil hot n bothered lmao

notifs: paul hill is a tease!! ; shoe-grinding ; fluffy smut ; hierophilia ; you're father paul's dirty little secret ; denial ; reader begging ; reader's down HORRENDOUS ; terms used: good girl, slutty thing, pet

"You've been lying there moaning for ten minutes." Father Paul chuckles, trying to focus on his reading.

You feel your leg twitch as you lay on your stomach, looking a bit dazed across the room. A giggle escapes you. In your mind's eye a constant stream of images plays- every dirty thing you’ve done with Father Paul in the last 48 hours, a rare weekend’s reprieve from prying Beverly Keane, sitting bedside with her sister or aunt or who-the-hell cares on the mainland. It was too easy to sneak into the house behind St. Patrick’s, and too goddamn pleasurable to leave after the first night. A delightful ease of domesticity has settled over the two of you. And you’re even more whipped for the Father than you were when this whole messy arrangement began.

"I can't help it-"

"It's understandable to whine like a whore while I'm still inside you, but cooing like that when I'm not even touching you is a little ridiculous." Smug, he licks his finger and turns a page. "A man's ego can only grow so big."

“What are you reading?” you ask, completely uninterested, and your voice betrays it. You might enjoy a good book now and again, but something worlds more tempting is sitting before you. In his jeans and tee shirt, only his glossy ankle boots remaining, Paul is a rare sight out of uniform, like something sent from heaven. Or Hell. Both, somehow.

“You asked me that fifteen minutes ago. Or did you forget already?” He shoots you a disapproving, but playful look. He can hardly resist you more than you can him. Hardly. There is that last smidgeon of reserve that Paul prides himself on. He can’t be bothered to think of you as a sin, because life’s become far, far more complicated in the last few months than any one man can hold in his head, and because it feels like paradise to touch you.

Caught in your inattention, you abandon the ruse of asking about his book. "You fucked me too good...." You whine.

"You're going to complain about it?" He laughs at you.

"You're laughing at me."

"Of course I'm laughing at you," he admonishes. Not to be taken in by your wiles, Paul's eyes trace the paragraph he's started unsuccessfully three times.

"You whine before I fuck you, you whine while I fuck you, and you whine after I've fucked you. You're silly."

The vision renews itself in your mind of last night creeping around in here, your excitement waiting in the antechamber of St. Patrick’s late at night, Paul sneaking up on you in the dark and taking you in that muggy little den where they keep the wine and spare things. You want him to grunt against your ear like that again, to fuck you like he needs you in order to breathe.

"I'm not silly!" You gasp out. He hears the difference in your voice and scans your body with his eyes. Grinning. He licks his bottom lip and pretends the fool. “I want it, please, I want it, I don’t caaaare…” Your caterwauling would be annoying if it wasn’t so bone-deep genuine. Paul could probably keep you here forever as a pet, a secret from innocuous parishioners, visitors from all walks of life, and you’d be satisfied as long as he used you from time to time. Fed you.

“Oh, that’s undignified.” He smiles, turns the page and hopes he can pick up without the aid of the passage his mind simply refused to retain.

You get on all fours and start to crawl over to him. You tug on the leg of his jeans, utterly debased.

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” his tongue flicks and flutters around the word in a musical way that you know you could find better uses for. You nod. His voice. He could guide you anywhere with it. To make things worse, he imitates you. The facsimile of your lust in his voice is enough to make you jump him. “‘Father, I can't focus on my book....Father, please fuck me with your fingers, I can't without it, I need it...I told you pack things to stay because I imagined I’d be enjoying some downtime other than between my sheets.'"

You bite your lip, the adoring way you look up at him unfairly reminiscent of Biblical portraiture, the Madonna (too ineffably ironic), Saint Lucia, devout, suppliant little succubi. Paul’s heart breaks a little, and his cock twitches with interest, which he endeavors to suppress.

“What’s that look for, child?” He plays up the religious bent of your dynamic, something that presses inexpressibly sinful and delicious buttons in your dirty mind.

"I do need you."

You pout. Your words with Paul repeating them was enough to rev your proverbial engine. You shift just the littlest bit, yet the friction of the floor underneath you is enough to tease out a whimper. Not totally on purpose, but not totally by accident. John chuckles again.

“Present tense?” He pretends to turn a page, but he’s not reading a damn thing now.

"I need you all the time you're not in me.” It’s filthy, but it feels true in these moments when all the thoughts are leaving your head empty.

He smiles one of his private smiles. His eyelids crinkle as he reaches up to scratch his cheek. "Let's not be pornographic, huh?"

"I wanna fuck again..."

"What else is new?"

"You've ruined me." He looks at you then like you’re something to eat. The book is shut and put down. You have your beloved hot priest’s attention. His eyes ask, smoldering, what will you do now you have it?

“You have my boot. Or aren’t you smart enough to get yourself off.” His tone shifts and a shadowy, serious dominance settles in his countenance. Every behavior, every quirk of his expression, curve of his smile, owns and owns you. He may plead and beg to bury his head between your thighs from time to time, on one occasion he may have shown up at your door, his satchel a deceptive front for rope and ribbon, which you were to restrain and blindfold him with. Life’s too short for dynamics that don’t shift and change like the tides. But in this moment, this energy, you are his. And he intends to impress that upon you.

You gape at him just a moment, heady lust clouding your already addled brain. Then slowly, carefully, you adjust your position, grab the upper part of Paul’s calf, and hoist your lower body up onto his shoe, your pelvic bone bumping his shin. Any hesitations or embarrassment that linger in you drown in the deeper, sweeter excitement of feeling some real friction as you roll your hips. Oh. God.

This might be the senseless, reckless need talking, but fuck. Just the sensation of the toe of his shoe right between your thighs, exactly where you need it, makes you feel a little bit crazy. You look up at him in awe, and thank God he’s not picked up his book again but instead is sitting comfortably, his gaze dropped low to watch you, his groin thrusting the tiniest bit forward at nothing, too much nothing. He groans, and you chase your pleasure like a thing possessed.

Words slip out of your mouth without a shred of logic behind them, and Paul tells you to repeat yourself. He bites his bottom lip as he watches you. “Hello? Still a brain in there?"

“I said you make me so sensitive,” you mumble, finding a new groove in the contour of his shoe, where it meets his ankle, and leaning on his knee, shaking, groping for his thighs, all involuntarily. Your dripping, dripping on his shoe, and the thought of how uncivilized that is makes Paul bite his fist.

"Uh huh, so it's all my fault, then."

"Yes..."

"Yes, 'what'?"

"Yes it's all your fault, Father."

“It’s my fault you’re going to cum on my shoe?”

You whine again. Your soul’s leaving your body, want spreads through every inch of your body, intense and blinding, high, so high.

“C’n I cum, please, can I cum?” You pant, feeling his hands wrap around yours, warm and loving.

“Look at me, pet.” He orders. You obey. His irises envelop you. You steady yours on them, trying to get a grip, breath filling your belly and leaving your parted lips in rapid gasps. “No.”

Your brows shoot up in surprise. Disappointment isn’t the word for it, desire lets itself out as a sound. You slow down, somewhere in a high place you hear him say:

“Stop grinding, slutty thing. Your Father told you ‘no.’”

You sink against him, laying your head on one of his thighs. He kisses the top of your head, and murmurs, “Good girl. Good girl, good.”

Fireworks are setting off under your skin, your thighs are trembling, every bit of you is sticky. “That wasn’t easy, I bet.” He says, voice condescending and sweet, but every bit as needy as you are. You make another noise in response.

“I’m not done with you, you know,” he takes your chin into one of his hands, lifts your head. He kisses you again, with a fierceness that just sharpens your feeling. “I’m not even close to done with you.” He rests his in your neck, kisses you once, twice, up your jaw, on your cheeks, the ear he can reach. He bites your earlobe and almost hisses, “Me. You. Bed. Now.”

[Pt. 2 Out Now!! Linked Here :)]

I now have a ko-fi! Consider checking it out to support my addiction to cold brew coffee, or commission something special all your own 🖊️

#midnight mass #john pruitt #father paul hill #thirsting hours #monsignor pruitt #monsignor john pruitt #father paul #fic tag #midnight mass fic #father paul x reader #hamfam smut #my blabber #tfw you can't even write your smut drabble well bc you're feral for the man you're writing about #ko fi commissions

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jazzerjaw · 14 days ago

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It's been a while, cuz I genuinely keep forgetting this place exists. Have another art dump. It's not EVERYTHING I've made from the last post, but still a good amount of it. Hopefully next time I'll remember to actually post here too when I make new stuff, lmao. Also, if for some reason you're curious, here's my OC names. Chum Salmonid: Dee / Cohock Salmonid: Brute / Big Shot Salmonid: Dellh / Orca: Quillaw / Swampert: Ceruse / Empoleon: Lando Yes, the two big Salmonid fellas are dating. No, you cannot join in. I have a fanfiction about them (cringe, I know), so if you're interested in how they came to be... have fun tryna find that. That's all for now! Hope anyone who reads this has a good (time of day)! :3

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staybabblingbaby · 2 months ago

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Soulmate Garden AU Ch.2 (Anemone) a3d2

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Growing up, you knew Soulmates weren't all that they cracked up to be. So when, on your 18th birthday, your skin is painted with a garden of flower buds, you resolve to hide it from everyone. Who had ever heard of someone with 8 soulmates, anyway?

Or; Reader has 8 soulmates and no issue avoiding all of them. It's up to SKZ to show her that while every soulbond might not be made of fairy tales, theirs certainly could be.

Word Count: 4,218

Notes: I don't feel like the summary completely matches this story anymore. I'm also not really satisfied with this chapter, but I'm too tired to really get into a whole bunch of drafts and edits, I've just really been feeling poorly lately. The archive is for writing progress anyways, it's fine. I'll probably rewrite this whole chapter if I ever get to where I'd be comfortable posting finished versions to Ao3. I'm also just not fond of my writing style somehow. It feels too formal, doesn't flow enough. Problem is that I really talk like that lmao. Idk, I'll figure it out.

Dividers by @saradika

Warnings: She/Her Reader

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks <3

Masterlist <3 | Prev Part | Next Part

Bangchan clambered into the van behind Felix, Minho and Jisung loading into the row in front of them. It always felt a bit weird to not spend some time swapping seatmates around based on who was clinging to who at the moment, but on days like today it was easier to just board the vehicles as quick as possible.

He's ended up with a relatively quite combination of their cluster today, and Chan was grateful for it as he settled into his seat with a pained grimace.

He wasn’t sure when it had started, but a persistent on-and-off pain had been roaming around his back for the last twenty minutes as they’d said goodbye to Stays and prepared to leave the venue. He’d be more worried about it, except the sharp, needle-like, pains would settle into a gentler ache before kicking back up again.

As it was, Chan was pretty sure he’d pinched a nerve or strained something and would simply rest when he got back to the hotel. Maybe call up the PT. For now, as three of his soulmates settled in around him, Chan was content to leave it be.

Well, almost. Another twinge of pain makes him wince as he twists to buckle in, and Chan decides that maybe it’d be a good idea to know what he was working with. For comfort’s sake, if nothing else.

“Felix,” He prods the blond next to him, “Can you look at my back for me? I think I pinched something.” He motions toward his lower back, where the majority of the pain had been accumulating.

Felix immediately nods his acceptance, their group’s resident massage expert always willing to lend a hand. Especially if it let him lay hands on his very well built soulmates.

Chan scooches forward and rotates around, balancing with his hand on the headrest of the seat in front of him. He helps Felix shimmy his shirt upwards, struggling with it where it gets caught in the seat-belt.

Chan ends up stuck struggling on his own as Felix chooses that moment to direct his eyes and hands to the afflicted area.

“There’s your first issue,” Felix tuts, “You’ve left your concealment tape on. You’ll give yourself a rash one of these days, hyung.”

Chan gives a sheepish smile from where he’s managed to trap himself in a cloth prison. His head is free, and the shirt his appropriately bunched up over his shoulders and around his neck. Unfortunately, he hadn’t managed to free his hands, so he’s got a bit of a t-Rex thing going on right now. It’s fine.

“I forget it’s there,” he confesses with a whine, “I can’t see my own back, y’know?”

Felix rolls his eyes at their oh-so-glorious leader, carefully peeling the thin material away from Chan’s skin as he scolds, “You still need to take it off. We sweat way too much to not at least change it after a performance.”

He’s bunching up the extra-strength tape to maybe toss at Jisung in the front seat (maybe Minho, if he’s feeling very brave), when he spots something off.

More than half a decade into having found each other, the members of Stray Kids were intimately familiar with each other’s soulmarks. Every drop of color, every line, every curve.

So when Felix looks at the freshly uncovered canvas on Chan’s back, familiar trees, bushes, and rocks painting a forested landscape that describes their impact on their eldest, something new immediately catches his eye.

There, on the fallen log that bridged two banks of a crystal-clear creek, was a moss blanket and a cluster little shelf mushrooms. They added life to the previously defunct object, a little bit of color that couldn’t have been said to be missing until it wasn’t.

The closer Felix looked, the more he saw. A mushroom here, a mossy patch there. Little signs of life and decay that he could have sworn weren’t there the last time he looked.

He looks to Jisung, who’s blissfully unaware.

As the first of their cluster to paint Chan’s skin with color, he was the most familiar with their leader’s mark. Jisung had been too young for his own mark to have appeared when he’d met Chan, but that didn’t stop him from influencing their eldest’s. They all knew he’d spent a lot of time studying Chan’s mark (and Changbin’s when it had appeared, already partially colored in) while waiting for his own.

If there was anyone who’d be more than certain of a change in their soulmarks, it’d be Jisung.

Felix swiftly removes his hands from Chan’s back, earning him a little noise of confusion from the prone man, and reaches over to poke Jisung harshly in the side.

Jisung immediately flinches away from the offending fingers with a loud yelp, attracting the attention of Minho, who’d been peacefully scrolling on his phone. Jisung swiftly fixes Felix with an offended glare, ready to retaliate, but is cut off before he can even try.

“Look at Chan’s mark for me.” Felix demands.

“My mark?” Chan echoes, baffled and alarmed. “What’s wrong with my mark?”

“Nothing, hyung,” Felix assures, “I just need to check I’m not seeing things.”

A series of furtive, silent, and, on Felix’s part, urgent, gestures are exchanged before Jisung finally relents and leans around the back of his seat, grabbing Minho’s for balance as the van departs.

Jisung lazily traces his eyes over Chan’s soulmark. All of Stray Kids had huge marks, but Jisung privately thought that Chan had them all beat. His mark spanned his entire back, not an inch untouched by the image. From shoulder to hip was an oil painting of a mark, filled in from what used to be a desolate landscape to what was now a thriving forest.

Jisung used to think it was so overwhelming to be part of such a mark. To be loved so much, and so deeply. It was evident in every brushstroke of the image on Chan’s skin, and in every action of the man himself.

These days, he found great comfort in it.

He’d gotten so lost in thought as he studied his soulmate’s mark that Jisung had almost missed what had caught Felix’s attention in the first place. But sure enough, his eyes catch on the same log that Felix’s had.

“Oh.” He whispers to himself. “Oh.” He says again, as Minho shoves his head under Jisung’s arm to look himself.

“No, yeah, that’s different.” He confirms, Minho nodding against him, having already spotted it for himself. The two of them find their eyes glued to tiny mushrooms, only sparing a moment to glance at each other before returning their gaze to Chan’s skin, each with their own racing thoughts.

“I thought so.” Felix nods to himself.

“What?” Chan questions, becoming more alarmed by the second, “What’s going on? What’s happened? What’s wrong with my mark?”

Felix lays his palms flat on Chan’s back and begins to rub gentle, soothing, circles. Any changes to a soulmark were stressful at the best of times, and they all knew how much Chan treasured his.

“There’s nothing wrong,” Felix soothes, letting the warmth of Chan’s mark resonating with his touch calm them both as he searches for gentle words.

“It’s just,” He begins hesitantly, “Well, the good news is that you haven’t pinched or strained anything.”

“Good news?” Chan echoes, “Is there bad news?” He lets a nervous giggle fall from his lips even as he relaxes into Felix’s hands.

“Not necessarily?” Felix says uncertainly, “It’s just. Well. Your mark has changed.” He pauses a second and pulls out his phone, quickly snapping a picture and then passing it around so Chan can see. “Something’s been added.”

Felix lets the implication of his words sit untouched in the air as the three of them wait for Chan to process what this means.

Ironically, Chan was the least familiar with his own mark out of all of them. His and Minho’s both resided on their backs so it stood to reason that the two of them didn’t see their marks very often. So it was no surprise that it took Chan several, very long, moments to spot the tiny changes.

When he does, Chan pulls in a deep, stuttering breath. The pain is already fading out to an ache now that it’s been acknowledged and Chan isn’t sure how he feels about the extra confirmation.

He carefully pulls his shirt back down, breaking his soulmate’s line of sight like they hadn’t already burned the image onto their retinas. He doesn’t remove his eyes from Felix’s phone.

“I...” He trails off, “I have another soulmate?” His voice is filled with wonder as he marvels at the picture of his mark. He looks up at the rest of his soulmates currently in the van with awe. “We have another soulmate?”

“Yeah,” Minho whispers, voice choked with emotion, “Yeah it looks like it.”

Felix doesn’t wait for Chan to fully turn around before he’s pulling their leader into a bone-crushing hug, giddy, disbelieving, laughter spilling out of him even as tears prick at his eyes.

“Oh my god!” Felix celebrates quietly as Chan wiggles to return his hug just as tightly. “Oh my god.” The other man agrees.

Even as his soulmates celebrate around him, each feeling their own storm of emotions, Chan can’t quite grasp the reality of the situation.

Stray Kids was a uniquely large soul cluster. From the beginning, when it had become evident that Hannie wasn’t his only soulmate, it had caused issues. Then came Bin, and the rest had followed like dominos. Each time their circle expanded he’d thought “this has to be it, right?” and each time there was a little voice in the back of his mind saying, “No, not yet.”

The issue was that that feeling, that little voice saying ”not yet”, the knowledge that they weren’t complete, had never gone away.

By the time they had all met, none of them could spot anything obviously missing from their marks. All of them were completely colored, lines drawn, images complete. And yet, every one of them felt that hollowness of an incomplete bond.

They’d talked about it a lot. Individually, as a group, in pairs and in quartets and seemingly endless combinations. It was hard, as the years went by, to ignore that nagging feeling.

Chan would always remember Jeongin crawling into his bed in the middle of the night, crying and apologizing for not being enough. Could never forget taking Jisung to a rage room so they could both break down their feelings or drinking with Changbin and wondering if it was wrong for them to be so greedy as to want more when they already had so much.

After so many years, they’d begun to wonder if they were just broken. If they didn’t have another soulmate out there after all, and it was all in their heads.

It had been hard. It was hard.

And now that little blank space in his soul was painted with someone else’s colors and Chan felt whole in a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever experience.

It kind of made him want to cry.

He wanted to cry even more when Felix innocently asks, “So what were they like?” An unmatched eagerness in his eyes as Chan pulled away.

That one guileless question triggers a realization in Chan that has his groaning in despair and slumping forward back onto Felix’s shoulder.

“I don’t know.” Chan mumbles into the shoulder of the slighter man.

“What was that?” Jisung questions from where he and Minho were still turned toward him, obviously as curious as Felix.

“I said I don’t know!” Chan wails, wilting further into Felix’s frame.

“How do you not know?” Minho questions incredulously. Felix gasps as he connects dots he’d been too excited to before.

“I didn’t even know my mark had changed before now,” Chan explains miserably, “I don’t even know exactly when the pain started.”

Jisung sucks in a hiss of air, sympathy splashed across his face. “Oh geeze,” he breathes out, “How many people have we met today alone?”

“Ok, well,” Felix interjects, “Not ideal, but we’ll figure it out!”

Minho turns his incredulous stare onto the optimistic man.

"How are we going to figure it out?" He demands, "Because there were tens of thousands of people in that stadium and I know every single one of us shook dozens of hands tonight."

Felix wilts a little bit even as Jisung comes to his defense, "We kind of have to figure it out, hyung," he points out, "And soon. We're back to Seoul soon."

"Okay but how?" Minho challenges, "And don't give me any 'with the power of love and fate' crap."

"We might have to rely on fate." Chan shrugs, dejected. "It's not like I have a description or anything to give out."

"It'll be okay Channie hyung," Felix pats Chan's back lightly from where they're still entangled together, "It'll have to be."

The van descends into silence as the four of them contemplate their new situation. After a few minutes Chan leverages himself up and out of Felix's embrace to frown aimlessly at his knees.

"Well," Felix breaks the silence, "We don’t have any more shows after this, and we have some days of break time, right?”

“Right,” Chan confirms, “We have tomorrow off and then we’re returning to Seoul to start working on the next album.”

“But officially,” Felix hedges, “We have, like, an entire week off, don’t we?”

“Not quite, but sure,” Chan hesitantly agrees.

“Well, we know they were in town for the concert at least,” Felix continues, “So as long as they didn’t leave the city immediately after, I mean, there's seven more first contacts to go, right?”

“Are you saying we should spend our break wandering around trying for first contacts?” Jisung asks, “Because I’m all for searching for them, but I don’t know that aimless wandering is gonna help.”

Chan holds up his hands to halt that conversation before it could devolve into a bigger debate.

“Let’s shelve that for now, and meet up with the others at the hotel,” He suggests, “We should discuss this as a group anyways.”

He receives a variety of agreements and the four of them settle in for the short remaining drive back to their hotel. He absently hands Felix’s phone back to him and retrieves his own from his pocket to ask the others to meet them in his room.

Chan looks out the window, post-concert fatigue all but a memory. As the buildings pass by, he can’t help but hope that their mystery soulmate was looking for them too.

You reaffirm your decision to never ever meet your soulmates as Taylor loads you into the car, arm wrapped protectively around your shoulder the whole way.

It was one thing when your stupidly large soul cluster was just an idea. Knowledge you held, but unactionable in any way.

It was another when you had evidence, in the form of little white flowers burning with warmth on your skin, that they were real, physical, people.

Even worse when you knew that they were a group of very famous musicians.

You hadn’t actually been sick when you’d texted Taylor, who’d thankfully managed to get all of the autographs he’d wanted before he’d checked his phone to try to find you, but you were getting there. Anxiety had nausea creeping up your throat like molasses.

You’re beyond grateful when your roommate doesn’t question your sudden illness, the both of you well aware that you were hale and hearty when you’d left the house.

Taylor just buckles you in like you’re something precious and fragile and takes the wheel.

The two of you drive in silence the entire way home. It’s not awkward, but you can’t deny the weight of something heavy in the air. The buzz of the concert still lingered between the two of you, and it only made the silence stifling and itchy.

When you pull into your apartment complex neither of you speak for a long moment.

“Sorry for ruining the day.” You murmur to the air in front of you. Taylor just reaches over to pat your thigh and unclip your seatbelt.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” He assures, “Don’t sweat it.” He hesitates a moment before continuing.

“I’m not gonna push,” Taylor begins gently, “But you know you can talk to me, right? Whatever happened, I’m not gonna judge. I just wanna be here for you.”

“What makes you think something happened?” You mutter mulishly. Taylor just gives you a look that has you sinking into your seat.

“It’s nothing. I’m just being dramatic.” You admit. He bumps your shoulder with his and climbs out of the car.

“It’s not nothing if it makes you feel something.” He tells you as he goes. The two of you walk up to the apartment in silence, contemplative this time.

You think about telling him as the two of you separate to wash the concert off of yourselves. You think about it as you take turns using the bathroom and as you make dinner side by side. You think about it as you settle in front of the couch at his feet as his hands automatically pull your head to his knees, his fingers digging into your hair just how you like.

You want to tell him, you decide. You do. It's just that. Well...

Your sister was right, in a way. You’d known Taylor for over a year now, but the two of you didn’t really know much about each other. You really were just roommates.

You didn’t know what his favorite color was. You didn’t know the names of his parents, or if he had any siblings. You barely knew what he did for a living. He’d only ended up your roommate by virtue of you responding to his “roommate wanted” ad with full willingness to be murdered on the spot.

At the same time, the two of you knew everything about each other. You knew how he took his coffee in the morning, that he preferred his eggs dry and over-seasoned. You knew the bands he liked and the games he played. You knew his hobbies better than you knew your own sometimes, and more about his friend’s drama that you ever wanted to.

You know the important things, you think.

You know that every word you tell him in confidence will be clutched tightly all the way to the grave.

“I met my soulmate today.” You confess, your cheek pressed to his knee, half-asleep.

The words somehow feel like they were snatched from the darkest depths of your soul as they spill from your lips. You make no move to take them back.

Taylor’s hand, to his credit, only pauses for a moment. Then he treats your hushed admission like any other comment made while you nod off to dramas the both of you know you only watch for him, resuming the soothing movement of his hand and humming lightly to acknowledge you.

You think it’s that casual treatment that lets you find the courage to continue.

“Well, one of them anyway.” You mumble. Taylor hums his interest, but doesn't take his eyes off of the screen and doesn’t stop petting your hair.

“I don’t want to meet them. There’s so many of them and only one of me, y'know? I don’t even know how to love myself, how am I supposed to love eight other people?” Taylor says nothing still, his eyes glued to an episode of a drama you know the two of you have already finished three times over.

“I’m scared I’ll fuck it up. I’m scared they’ll fuck me up.” Your voice cracks as you breathe life into one of your deepest fears. You realize as you say it that you’ve never voiced these thoughts aloud before, even to yourself.

Tears prick at the back of your eyes when you admit, “I’m not ready for them. I don’t think I can be.”

Taylor finally gives in to the seriousness of the conversation and hauls you bodily up onto the couch. You go willingly, but with rag-doll limpness. He rearranges you to his liking and you find yourself in Gossip Position, sitting criss-cross facing him.

“First of all,” He starts in, his usual levity giving way to a seriousness you rarely see from him, “Don’t be mean to my best friend. I’ll hit you.” You ignore his threat in favor of the warm feeling in chest at hearing him call you his best friend.

Take THAT Ma! No friends your glorious behind.

“Secondly, you are literally the most loving person I have ever met in my life. You would fit the entire world in there if you could,” He pokes your chest, right above your heart, for emphasis, “So I’m not that surprised you have more than one soulmate.”

“I have eight though,” You argue, “Isn’t that weird?”

Taylor just shrugs. “I mean, yeah. But weird is basically your brand, so...” He trails off with a teasing smirk.

You shove him a bit in retaliation, but he just grabs your wrists to still you and continues speaking before you can argue.

“I don’t think eight soulmates is enough for you, honestly,” He muses, “I mean it when I say you’re the most loving person I know. I think you’d even try to take care of Danny if he needed you to.” The mention of Taylor’s very creepy second cousin sends a shiver down both of your spines.

The worst part is that you can’t even argue with him.

“But you know, even with eight soulmates, you don’t have to be with them.” Taylor suddenly switches tracks to reassure you, “They’re your soulmates sure, but you’re your own person. They’re for you, it’s not like they are you. You can live without, if you really want to.”

The two of you let that statement settle for a moment. He’s right, you know all too well. Still, the thought leaves a wad of uncomfortable and complicated feelings lodged in your throat.

After a moment’s pause, you break the silence.

“I have too many years of trauma and not enough therapy money to unpack everything I’m feeling right now.”

Taylor cracks first, and giggles come pouring out of the two of you. The joke wasn’t even funny, but you guessed the two of you had been serious for far too long.

Some minutes later, when the giggles finally die down and you return to watching Taylor’s show, you find yourself with your head on his shoulder.

“Whatever you decide, you know I’m here for you, right?” Taylor quietly picks up where the conversation had left off.

“Sure,” you agree, “Like I was there for you when you cried over a boy I told you wasn’t shit.” You completely deserve the elbow to the side you receive for that comment.

“Shut up, I’m being cheesy!” Taylor scolds with a laugh.

“I’m lactose intolerant!” You complain, but obligingly fall silent.

“Seriously,” Taylor insists, “I’ll be here every step of the way. Whatever you need.”

You wrap your arms around the one of his that you’re leaning on and give a gentle squeeze to show your appreciation. “Thanks Tay.” you murmur.

“Of course. You got me front row tickets to a SKZ concert, we’re ride or die whether you like it for not!” You poke his side to scold him for not being serious after just insisting that you be, but end up having to fight for your life when he immediately retaliates by trying to tickle you.

It takes the two of you quite a while to calm down again, Taylor smug in his victory. He holds your ankles in his lap like trophies of war as you stare at the ceiling. The quiet creeps back in quickly, so you speak.

“I’m just not sure what I want, I think.” You tell him, “I don’t want to meet them. But at the same time, I really do, y’know?”

Taylor nods, “Just let the universe do its thing.” he suggests, “If you’re meant to meet them now, you’ll meet them regardless of what you want. But after you meet them, it’s all up to you.”

You nod along, humming your acceptance of his advice. He’s right, again. You can’t really fight fate, even if you desperately want to. But even within that large restraint, you’re a human being with free will. The world is your oyster and all that.

You let your thoughts fade out and just listen to Taylor yap about the drama on the TV as he finally tunes back into it.

It’s nearly dawn when the two of you decide to turn in, post-concert jitters having deserted you and heavy conversations having taken their toll.

“Did you manage to get their name before you bolted?” Taylor asks out of nowhere as you’re walking to your respective rooms. “Your soulmate’s” He clarifies at your confused look.

“Oh, I didn’t need to.” You answer absentmindedly, already opening your door and dreaming of your cozy sheets. “It was Bangchan.”

You close your door on his gawping face, blissfully unaware of the crisis you’d just sent him into.

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#skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #skz fanfic #w.i.p fic #skz fic #w.i.p #baby writes #SGAU #Soulmate Garden AU #Soulmate AU #SKZ soulmate AU #stray kids soulmate au

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